#love live x powerpuff girls

[kurucard]

MUSE X POWERPUFF GIRLS OFFICIAL COLLAB

[sapphicstoria]

Realized I don’t have an introduction post about myself yet.

So, hi! My name is Honey. I’m 26 years old, and im a huge anime and cartoon fan, in general. I also love:

Riverdale, Stranger Things, Never Have I Ever, The Summer I Turned Pretty, etc.

I’m sapphic, a huge woman lover, and I just love posting about my favorite ships and characters. I enjoy having discussions and debates, but not when they get too heated! Please, do not interact with me, if you hate any of my favorite ships or characters, I’ll just delete your comment.

[bugeyedfreaks]

It’s interesting to read about and have it affirmed that the show does super well commercially with product licensing. It’s one of the things that bums me out about this show… like, it’s great that it’s a money maker, but the cost of that is that products and new reboots and stuff are pushed out for money, and quality is just an afterthought. Really disheartening.

Anyway, most of the stuff in here has been said time and time again in other articles. I’ve been sort of irritated by the “kryptonite” thing Craig’s been saying lately (they have an actual kryptonite, Antidote X, and he’s describing responsibilities, which aren’t debilitating, they’re merely an inconvenience) and the misogynist undertones of what he says about how older PPGs wouldn’t be special or interesting are… still kind of low key gross… (I understand that the concept of the original is that they’re unique partially because they’re kids and I also prefer that setting, but as if they aren’t unique enough superheroines in their own right, and heaven forbid they ever gain responsibilities that older girls/women/people could relate to 🙄). Aside from my personal quibbles, a good read for the 25th even if it does rehash things!

[animezinglife]

His features are described as "sharp, elegant, and ethereally handsome."

He basically looks like a sharper-featured Tolkien elf made to enrich female readers' fantasies and set them on fire in all manner of unholy ways.

Hate all you like, but let's not lie.

antis: lucien is literally so ugly 🤮

lucien, rolling his sleeves up and catching fish with his bare hands while feyre comments on the shade of his hair for the 274738th time:

[husbandhoshi]

title: royally screwed [m]

pairing: joshua x f!reader

wc: 30.8k in total; part 1: 15.4k, part 2: 15.4k summary: between remembering last night’s party and pleasing your unrelenting family, you think being a princess is hard enough. then you’re thrust into an arranged marriage to royal darling joshua hong—straight-laced, infuriatingly obedient, and everything you’re not. pretending to be the perfect couple? impossible.   notes: romcom + smut (part 2), modern royalty!au in which yn is the princess of cotria/joshua the prince of acros (both fictional), enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, quarterlife crisis/coming of age, very very slow burn. lots of swearing, lots of alcohol, lots of feelings. smut tags: oral (m!receiving), mirror shenanigans, unprotected sex, softdom!shua, mating press, idk. they're in love your honor. [read part 1 here!] (please)

You decide June looks good on Acros. Unlike in Cotria, now sure to be perspiring with tourists, the downtown here is comfortable, inviting, even. At home, you’d be shoulder-to-shoulder with three other people right now. 

This is one of the things you like about this country: it seems to be intentionally idyllic. It’s becoming more clear to you that Joshua’s parents weren’t actually in need of anything from you other than a status boost. You suppose they’re learning the hard way what exactly that comes with.

Jeonghan’s car, or rather, the car Jeonghan happens to be in (he couldn’t drive his way out of a paper bag, try as he might), pulls up to the curb. He’s fresh off a stint of good press, meaning months of speeches, ribbon cutting, and run-ins with parliament and journalists and business moguls all vying for a bite of a future king. You’d add yourself to that list, but you know you’re at the back of the line—you practically live there now, but you’re not sure if things could have happened any other way. 

You watch him step out of the van, never windblown even though he likely just got off a flight. Always with a smile, too, one tired but recognizable, so different from the plasticky ones he wears on TV. 

The first thing he does when he gets out is throw his arms open for a bear hug. “Hey, cricket,” he says, voice wrought with jet-lag. “Missed you.” 

“Glad you had time for one more stop,” you murmur, squeezed into the million-thread count of his shirt. 

“I always have time for you,” he replies, which is decidedly untrue, but you don’t have it in you to say that. All you do lately is get into arguments, and you’re not looking to add your brother to your hit list. 

(He hugs Jihoon, too, since you all practically grew up together. Is that your gun, or are you just happy to see me? Jeonghan jokes. Jihoon’s reply: It’s my gun. It’s always my gun.) 

The second thing he does is push the brim of your baseball cap down.

“The paps,” he warns, as if they were the boogeyman.  

“If they can’t recognize us, they need to get better at their job.” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “For God’s sake, Jeonghan, we’re all wearing matching hats.” 

No, you are not kidding. Jeonghan, blue, you, red, and Jihoon, green, a la The Powerpuff Girls, which was a joke you made about six years ago and could not let go of. 

“Whatever,” he laughs. “Aren’t you supposed to be showing me around? This is your domain now.” 

“Don’t get excited. I just got here.” 

“What do you need to go shopping for, anyway?” he asks, now walking side-by-side with you. 

“I ask that question every day,” Jihoon replies, glancing at Jeonghan as if to say Women, right?, save for the fact that the both of them have exactly zero game. 

“Somi’s birthday!” you exclaim, two ticks too loudly. “Stuff, I dunno. Just trying to get used to this place.” 

“This isn’t exactly Rodeo Drive, you know.” 

That, Jeonghan is right about. You’re sure there must be a shopping district somewhere in Acros, but definitely not here. Here, the streets are lined with dense cherry plum trees, wine-stained and fragrant. They frame driftwood-paneled shop windows housing kitschy art galleries, mom-and-pop bakeries, and patioed bistros with striped awnings. 

An elderly couple passes you. They smile and wave, visible even under the shade of their parasol, either blissfully unaware of your status or too wise to care. 

“I know,” you waver. “Whatever. I'll just get Yunjin to find me something for the party.” 

Your eye wanders to the jaunty facade of a music store. The sign flaunts handmade, cursive letters with a curly treble clef in the lacquer of old paint. In Cotria, the same sign would be neon, Hollywood-esque, vain. 

“Party?” 

“Let's go there,” you interrupt, hoping to run your big mouth over with some more talking. Of course Jeonghan wouldn’t be cool with any party, nonetheless the one Somi was planning on throwing, but, either by habit or wishful thinking, the news just tumbled right out of you. 

“Party?” Jeonghan repeats. He trails close after you, hoping to grab the door before you can. Such is what he had been taught, after all, which came more naturally than navigating big-brotherhood. “Jihoon?”

Jihoon shrugs, and opens the door before the both of you get there. You’ve trained him well. 

“It’s a small thing,” you tell him. “Close friends only.” It’s not technically a lie—small is relative, and it’s not your fault Somi has two hundred-some close friends.

Inside, you notice the shop is bigger than it looks from the outside. In the front, their nicest pianos: the glossy Yamahas, the baby grands. a lone drum set, on sale, the hi-hat sparkling under the LED lights. And finally, guitars hung from the wall like posters, some lime green and child-sized, others sanded down so the mahogany glows. 

“You already know what I’m going to say,” Jeonghan says, the lilt of his voice verging on not-so-casual. 

“Then don’t say it,” you reply flatly. “You went to those parties too, by the way.” 

“Used to, but—” Jeonghan sighs because he’s beat, and he knows it. 

You absentmindedly flip through a book of sheet music—Alfred's Essentials of Music Theory. behind it, 40 Taylor Swift Songs for Piano. 

“You’ve been good, I hope?” you cut in. “Not too tired?” 

“No,” Jeonghan says.  “I've been great. You?” 

You can’t read his expression. Old Jeonghan would tell you that he’s ready for a nap, that he hates sleeping on airplanes, that his hands still get sweaty when he gets in front of a crowd and the camera flash hurts his eyes. New Jeonghan never complains, either because of some drastic change in his character or because he feels like he can no longer complain to you. Both hurt your feelings in equal measures.

“I called, you know.” 

“I was busy, cricket.” He holds up a copy of Complete Advanced Piano Solos and wrinkles his nose. He's hoping you’d laugh with him about it, but you’ve already moved on, now fixated on the shining columns of electric guitars. “I wanted to ask about, you know, all the new stuff going on.” 

“You mean my arranged marriage?” The words feel stiff in your mouth. 

The arranged marriage I'm doing for you? I split my heart open for you, and that’s the thanks I get? 

You avoid Jihoon’s tentative glare to look at your noodled reflection in the polish of a red Fender. You think of Joshua, of a corny rendition of Here Comes The Sun and a pick between his teeth, cradling a guitar held by a linty, ten dollar strap. 

Then you think of what he said on that piano bench—that somehow he could have prevented this. Actually, this might have been all your fault. One too many shots, and you ended up setting feminism back five centuries. 

“Y-yeah.” You watch Jeonghan’s silhouette appear behind yours. “Has it been okay, at least?” 

Okay is a complicated word to use. It’s hard to say, even for you. 

It would certainly be TMI to tell Jeonghan that you’ve been kissing a lot more often. First it was under the flimsy guise of practice—We have to be ready for our dinner tomorrow, Joshua had said, to which you readily agreed. You couldn’t be the unwilling victim of another headline like KISS OR MISS! It would be terrible for your ego, even more so than your public image. 

Yesterday, though, as you were winding down for bed, Joshua had come out of the shower, damp white tee and all. A sorry, unspeakable part of you willed you to posit—Hey, maybe we need a refresher? You couldn’t even get halfway through your sentence. Hell, his glasses even came off.

You really only liked each other past 9 PM—you still couldn’t quite manage to get through a conversation like normal people. At this point, you had a 50/50 split in terms of who would cast the first terrible stone of petty disagreement. The only thing we have going for us is a dubious physical attraction, seemed like way more of a mouthful than okay, though. 

“Yeah, it’s been okay.” You look around. There's a decent amount of mediocre acoustic guitars on the back wall, more than enough to scratch the itch of someone too afraid to defile something more honorable. “Hey, don’t wait up for me. I think i might buy something.” 

—

[august 10, 2:57 pm; a dress fitting. 

In the ten-foot mirror of the boutique dressing room, you watch Yunjin yank the ties of your corset into a punishing knot. Your mother watches behind you, perched on the chaise. 

“Regal and radiant,” she reads aloud, the shiny cover of a magazine between her hands. “Finally, some good news.” 

“About you and Joshua?” Yunjin asks. 

“Ye–ow!” you wince. “Yeah. We went out to dinner yesterday.” 

The dinner: an exhausting, stuffy affair at an Italian restaurant with two Michelin stars. You came in a nice dress, Joshua in slacks and his best button-up. Smile, wave, a kiss on the cheek. You fed him a spoonful of dessert, a stiff, too-sweet panna cotta. It was either raspberry or strawberry—you were too distracted to really notice. Instead, you’d been practicing the steps, the motions of a true love. 

Should we hold hands over the table? Joshua had asked. 

I don't think we have to. Your hand had curled over the napkin on your lap, as if the thought of his touch physically stung. 

“This is a nice color,” your mother interrupts. She pinches the fabric of the skirt up at your waist, watching the way it bunches over your hips. “It's suitable.” 

Suitable. Right. The dress for your engagement ball, suitable. Just like you, newly suited for the engagement. 

You watch your image in the mirror. It’s taller, more regal, likely the product of Yunjin squeezing all the air out of you, Or worse, the penetrating gaze of your mother over the top of the tabloid.

You blink hard; you waver. ]

[august 20, 10:13 pm; a quiet return to acros after a day at the beach with somi and soonyoung. 

The castle sleeps, warm under the soft glow of candlelight on marble. You pad through the halls, carefully, as to avoid waking the entire country with the thwacks of your still-wet sandals. Hopefully Joshua is sleeping. He'd certainly ask questions, either about if bikini tops really need all that padding or what the SPF of your sunscreen was. 

You approach your room, where the lamplight from the cracked door oozes into the hallway. There's a determined rustling noise coming from the interior. Incriminating. Holding your breath, you cast a long glance into the thin slice of bedroom you can see from where you’re standing. 

There sits Joshua, cross-legged on the bed. Between his legs, the guitar you bought him. It must have finally shipped. He’s tied the gift ribbon it came with to the guitar strap, a woven linen with an offensively bright jacquard pattern. 

A hesitant A major chord, then G major, offkey. Hm, he hums aloud. Then you notice his phone propped on a pillow, a Youtube tutorial rumbling in the background. He tries the G major again. Better, he says, pumping a fist into the tired air. 

God, what a dork, you think. But you don’t walk away.] 

– 

From the garden, the Acrosian moon renders the city blue, like ink from a spilled well. 

It’s quiet out here, you notice. The forest spills into the sky, and the scent of roses lies heavy on your skin. You’re seated on the bench beneath the sculpted gazebo, a worthy centerpiece, and you revel in the coolness of the granite, the bated still of the air. You like this garden better than the one at home, although it’s entirely possible that you’ve been conditioned into hating all topiaries, no thanks to your parents. 

It's only when you hear the quiet click of footsteps behind you that you realize you’ve lost track of how long you’ve been outside. You’re now able to tell them apart–these, Joshua’s, steady and purposeful, sound like they have a heartbeat. 

You don’t turn around to greet him. “So you finally had enough, huh?” you ask instead, sliding to the left so he can sit beside you. 

“How'd you know?” he chuckles. 

“I'd like to think I know at least a little about you.” 

“I appreciate it,” is his reply, surprisingly warm.

Just a few hours earlier, your parents had come to visit. They cooed and giggled and connived alongside Joshua’s parents before launching into a very long, very serious discussion about your engagement ball. You’ve learned not to sweat the small stuff, the small stuff being the color of the napkins, the members of the string quartet, the hors d'oeuvres. But then it got weird: the symbolism of the color of your nail polish, which journalists were allowed to watch you make out, when and how Jeonghan was supposed to announce his presence during all of this. 

Then things got critical, which really sucked. No one was safe this time, not even Joshua. You lasted about an hour, Joshua about forty-five minutes more. You wonder what his breaking point was. Maybe it was his mother finally telling him off for having more than three buttons undone whenever he wore a dress shirt. 

In the silence, you feel an inexplicable peace. Maybe this is the only time you can get along; underneath the same moon, the same stars, the divide doesn’t feel quite as wide. You let your mind clear, first, past the fog of Somi’s birthday bash, glittery and blinding in your mind’s eye, past Jeonghan’s tired shoulders in the music store, past all the magazine covers and photo ops. The heavy reality feels heavier in your stomach, but you’re no longer as scared, although resignation looks like acceptance when you whittle it close enough to the bone. 

“Have you ever been in love before?” 

Joshua’s voice is so low, it takes you by surprise. You look to your side and see his eyes, shaded by the long curl of his lashes, trained on the sky, his expression unreadable. There’s a piercing sincerity to it, one you haven’t seen before. 

“No,” you reply, the answer coming to you faster than any regret ever could. “How could i?” 

“So all the boyfriends before, just…?” he trails off. He's referencing the magazines, all the covers with full size photos of you and the model of the month holding hands by the riviera, sharing a martini, kissing outside a nightclub. There are too many to remember, but you’re surprised he’s aware of any at all. 

“It was just stupid fun. I dunno. We hung out, had sex, whatever. It was never serious. I didn't tell them about anything at all; I was okay with them not really knowing me, at least, not as anything other than a party girl, the runaway princess, etcetera. We didn’t owe each other anything.” 

“Sounds lonely.” 

“Sometimes,” you answer. “But it was fun. I don't regret it. I just never saw room for them in all of this.” 

Joshua hums, low and deep. 

“And you?” you ask, incredulous. “In love?” 

“In university,” he says after a brief pause. “There was a girl. I think I loved her more than I had ever loved anything else before.” 

“What? Who?” you interrupt. “Do I know her?” 

“No.” Then, a quiet chuckle. “No one did. She was a civilian, a normal girl. She wanted to be a biologist, I think. it was either that, or a nurse. We snuck around a lot. Probably more than you did.” 

“Can I ask what happened?” 

“I told her I'd marry her. I thought if I wanted it enough, it would happen. I'd go to my parents, profess my love, and all our rules would fall away somehow. Just like that.” 

Suddenly, it feels like there is a gaping wound in your chest. Every new word seems to draw the bloody edges of your skin further apart. 

“Well, they didn’t,” Joshua continues. “I broke her heart. and I learned that all of this would never go away. Not for love, not for anything.” 

There is an impossible hollowness inside you. You imagine Joshua, twenty-one and bright-eyed at Cambridge, hiding beneath the arch of the cobblestone bridge, the long one behind the quad, to carve hearts into the limestone. There's a girl wrapped in his jacket, her laughter like bells. She draws him close, runs a delicate hand through his hair, a shorter cut, more sporty than it is now. The night is still just as kind, forgiving, as it is now, and the moon still round like a young pearl. 

“And that’s why you’re…you know.” You pause. The words all feel stuck to the roof of your mouth. “You like the rules.” 

“Because it would mean that it didn’t end in vain. That it wasn’t really my fault.” 

“You don’t want to mess up again. I get it.” 

“Yeah.” 

You notice your arms are touching, that they have been touching. Somehow, you don’t want to move away. 

“Why are you telling me this?” you ask.

“Not sure.” Joshua sighs, having fully abandoned the filter he normally speaks to you through. “I don't think we’re so different. I don't know. It feels good to tell someone.” 

“Do you still love her?” 

“No. I don't think I can.” 

“I'm sorry,” you swallow, feeling the familiar lump in your throat. 

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.”

It’s getting cold, the twilight breeze now coming in from the sea. A silence, now sticky, caustic, settles between the two of you. The thought of Joshua, hopelessly in love, a line you hadn’t even dared to cross, seems to wind itself deep into your neurons. 

“No really,” you insist. “I'm sorry. I gave you a hard time—no, I've been giving you a hard time. I didn't know.” 

“You don’t have to do that.” 

“What?” 

“Be nice to me. No one’s watching.” 

“I know,” you say, a foolish conviction rising in your stomach. You almost feel silly, juvenile, for never really baring your heart like how he had. You’re not sure which was worse. 

You turn to look at him, really look at him. He's framed by the haze of the violets, the gentle curtain of the willows. 

“Says the real you?” Joshua asks.

“Yup,” you laugh. “Usually is. You probably get the worst of it, to be honest.” 

“She’s not so bad.” He returns your gaze; it’s honest, unsearching. “According to the real me, by the way.” 

“Really?” 

“Really.” 

There are no words left. In fact, nothing quite says more than the way you now sit together, hands close enough to touch, without quarrel, complaint, or a yearning to prove yourself to some invisible standard. Instead, you enjoy the quiet calm, the way it drapes itself across the garden, the city, the quick of your heart. Now that you think about it, it’s the first time you’ve been able to do this without feeling like you were putting on a show.

This time, you think it’s real when you lean against his shoulder, and he leans back, chasing your warmth.

And it certainly seems to stay real when your hands find each other. You realize he does it the same way every time—the gentle skim of his fingertips down your hand before your palms meet, gently, forthright. 

And it’s here, in the uncertain glow of the summer moon, where you think you’re the closest to ever knowing just what Joshua had been talking about earlier. 

His hand curls around your cheek, holding you, wanting to see you clearer still, and he kisses you. It's not the practiced motion of an ill-conceived love, nor a hungry, blind stumble in your unlit bedroom. No, this time, it's as if you are being drawn back, wonderfully, slowly. Joshua kisses you as if it's the first time, as if to undo all the other times.

And somehow, almost by magic, the fountain song and the phantom photographers, the parents and the press, the world and everything in it, finally draw quiet. 

–

“So,” Jihoon says, reloading his pistol. “You ok? Don’t you hate the range?” 

You push your earmuffs aside to hear him better. “What?” 

“I said, don’t you hate the range?” 

“Well,” you balk. Jihoon puts the gun down and leans against the booth, looking at you from behind the glare of his safety glasses. Behind him is the paper target of a man with five bullet holes through his head. “I think I've gotten used to it.” 

This is all true—you did hate the range, but it’s where you can always count on finding Jihoon on a Sunday afternoon. Better people went to church, but Jihoon preferred to terrorize the poor center circle of a bullseye. 

“Hm.” He picks up the pistol again, stares down its iron sights. “Somi need anything for her birthday?” 

“She needs a new man,” you reply, and Jihoon laughs. 

Bang. Bang. 

“But, no, I'm getting her that vintage Cartier watch she’s been wanting forever. They were auctioning it off in Paris.” 

“Right, since it’s time for her to get a new boyfriend,” Jihoon deadpans, although he can’t quite get it out before he chuckles. “What about Soonyoung?” 

“They cannot get together. You’re just being messy.” 

“Sure, I'm the messy one. Didn’t they sleep together?” 

“That was, like, two years ago. Drunk.” 

Bang. Then a click–the clip’s empty. “By the way—you decided if you’re going to Cotria this weekend? Jeonghan will be back again, you know.” 

You pause, watching Jihoon reload the magazine, shiny bullet by bullet. You definitely know Jeonghan’s coming home—minus all the time you spend on Find My Friends, you were always acutely aware of when he was in town. The real question is if you wanted to see him again. Usually, you’d count down the days, make plans at all your favorite restaurants, buy a bottle of cheap wine to split over a shitty Godzilla movie. That was when you still talked. 

The last time you saw him was when he visited you in Acros. After the music store, you milled around a couple shops, walked through an art gallery. (Remember when you got lost at the Prado? he had asked. You were staring at that painting with all the butts. 

Kinda, you had replied noncommittally. All Jeonghan did lately was start his sentences with remember, like he wanted you to forget who he was now.) 

“I dunno,” is what you land on. “I'm busy.” 

“Well, Jeonghan asked me.” Jihoon takes down his old target and sets up a fresh one, another formless, black silhouette. 

“Asked you what?”

“If I could ask you to come.” 

“Does Josh know?” 

“He actually already helped with arrangements for you to go back,” Jihoon replies, palming the gun again. “He said only if you wanted to, though.” 

The tightness in your chest seems to coil over itself once more. Joshua had asked you about Jeonghan over breakfast one morning, before handing you a coffee and a croissant to soften the blow. You had been talking a lot more lately, which, somehow, you didn’t mind. If he wasn’t making fun of you, he was actually a decent listener. 

You watch Jihoon steady his arms. 

Bang. Bang. Bang. 

–

Like all of your great ideas, it began in the back of a car. 

Surprising, maybe. Accidental? Never. 

You’re getting ahead of yourself, though. It really started earlier tonight, at the charity event you attended with Joshua. 

Lesser beings would blame the wine, a cheap chardonnay only fit for sorority girls on a Friday night. Naturally, you and Joshua were responsible for downing about half the bottle—a fun amount, you’d like to say, although you admit you were surprised at your date’s ability to hold his alcohol. 

You, however, can peg the real culprit: a reasonably slutty dress, removed from the annals of Somi’s closet, back when she was less of a Paris Hilton and more of a Princess Diana. 

The evidence: damning. As you were getting ready—Can you zip me up? you had asked Joshua, fiddling with the rollers in your hair, already a generous ten minutes late. Then the slow, lingering skim of his touch, molasses up the hollow of your spine. At dinner, a warm hand on your knee. You didn’t hang around much longer after that, but walking to the car was a wondrous excuse for the flat of his palm to find the small of your back, fondly, comfortably, as if you had known each other for years. 

Since you had spoken in the garden, certainly you had acted like more of a couple. It came more naturally, likely due to the fact that you had no idea if you were actually a couple or not. You suppose it doesn’t matter at the end of the day. Well—sort of.

Now, you’re just being obtuse. What you’re really trying to do is explain how your hand found its way down Joshua’s pants in the back of your limousine. And still, found is too generous of a word. But you digress. 

The short version: you kissed Joshua. Jihoon parked the car out back, you had gotten tired of Joshua glancing at you through the side of his eyes, and you kissed him. Regrettably, this hasn’t gotten boring yet. You enjoy the way he searches for your touch, the part of his soft lips. 

Sometime between the third and the tenth time your tongue found its way into Joshua’s mouth, Jihoon removed himself from the situation—he was always good at that part. Two wandering hands later, your palm skimmed over the front of Joshua’s slacks. No big deal, except he was half-hard and he moaned in your mouth like he was doing the ad-libs in a Cupcakke song. 

“Whoops,” you had babbled. This whole night, you’d been searching for the brakes on the clown car winding through the horny fog of your horrible, vexed mind. 

“Fuck, sorry,” Joshua replied just as quickly, the words seeming to slip back down his throat. 

Then you had stared at each other and blinked, hard, as if that would erase the fact that, one, the prince of Acros had just cursed approximately half an centimeter from your face, and two, you’d now crossed a bridge that could not be uncrossed. 

You could no longer lie to yourself about the fact that you are hopelessly attracted to Joshua. You don’t even know if you want to lie anymore. You still thought of the time you ran into him, birthday suit and all, all those weeks ago in the bathroom. And, yes, you had wondered how big he was, although you blame Somi for planting that evil idea in you. 

Hence, with God as your witness (since Jihoon was no longer there), you had said, “I can help, you know. If you want.” 

You didn’t expect Joshua to nod so quickly. Then again, you now know yourself to be a poor judge of most things, especially ones relating to whatever this is. 

“Do you want to?” he had asked, eyes fogged over. 

“Yes. really.” Then you stopped. “Is this your first—”

“No. Does it really seem like it?” 

Okay. You’ll have to unpack that later. 

So, finally, here you are. Somewhere along the line, your shame had fallen to the wayside, and a new desire now rocks you. 

“Could’ve just asked earlier,” you tease, thumbing the buckle of Joshua’s belt. 

“Should’ve known you’re not one for subtlety,” he laughs softly, his eyes fixed on how you undo the clasp. It’s a silly comment, but all the blood still rushes to your cheeks at the idea of him wanting you not just now, but all night. “Next time.” 

“Really now.” The button at his waistband proves difficult with your new nails, so you instead sit your hand on the tent in his pants, palm him over the fabric. “You’d let me do this in the washroom of a charity ball?”

Delightfully, you watch him squirm. He doesn’t fight you, instead, uses his hands to bring you closer so you can feel his voice on your skin. “You’d be surprised,” he replies. 

“His highness,” you say before returning to the wretched button, “Fooling around at a formal event? Scandalous.” 

“Says the walking scandal,” Joshua laughs again, nipping at your earlobe. Then a sigh, breathy and tortured, as you finally peel back his slacks. 

“Isn’t this about the time where you be quiet and let me do my thing?”

“Is that an order?” 

“Yeah, since you seem to like them so much.” 

He opens his mouth to complain, but you’ve beaten him to the punch. Skin meets skin; you watch his eyes flutter shut, the slow fall of his shoulders as he exhales. 

Fuck, you think to yourself. If that’s all it takes for him to get hard— you force the thought back to where it came from. You’re getting ahead of yourself. Already, you’re reveling in the lewd image before you: the nation’s darling prince, legs spread and slack-jawed in the back of a limo, dizzy at the thought of a pretty girl playing with his cock. 

Your hand wraps around his length, pulls it out of his briefs. Feeling the weight, heavy and warm on your palm, makes your skin prickle. He is big, but even if he wasn’t, the way he gasps into your ear when you start pumping him is enough to satisfy. 

You start slow, just to be a little mean. He's longer than you expected, you realize. A turn of the wrist at the base, a little more pressure, and you hear him groan, loudly, shamelessly, as he tips his head back. 

“Feels good?” you ask, voice lower than a whisper. You know it does—you’re not inexperienced by any stretch of the imagination, but something about turning the prince into putty makes the months of horrible foreplay worth it. 

“Yeah,” he says, part sigh. “Really good.” 

“Good.” Then you hold out your palm in front of his mouth. You tell yourself it’s a litmus test for his freak-o-meter, but there’s a part of you that wants to make this the best handjob of his short, unexciting life. 

First, he looks at you, wide eyes unblinking. There's already a flush, pretty and pink, across his cheeks, the column of his neck. Then, it clicks. He spits into your hand, and you watch it trail down the plush curve of his lips, his chin, the ridge of his adam’s apple. The color spreads to his ears; his mouth twists shyly. Oh, he looks perfect, maybe even more than perfect like this. 

As if drawn by a magnet, you kiss him, and your hand finds his cock again. The friction alone draws out a low whine from Joshua’s chest, enough for you to feel the sound on your own tongue. Emboldened, you pump faster, harder, loving the way his hips kick up to meet your touch. 

Still, he gives no indication that he’s close. Something tells you he has more stamina than you think, which surprises you. Thirty minutes ago, you thought he was a virgin. 

“Josh?” you murmur, your lips brushing over his. “Wanna taste you.” 

He meets your gaze, expression unreadable. You think maybe you’re moving too fast, that you’ve crossed some sort of boundary, until you feel the shadow of his hand move, first on your waist, then up the back of your neck. He gathers your hair in one hand, easily, as if he’s done this many a time before, and you get the message. 

You wet your lips, swollen at this point, and bow your head. You’re running on something crazier than adrenaline at this point—even seeing the bead of precum at his tip is making your jaw feel heavy. 

The first taste, always thrilling, sends sparks to your cunt. You seal your lips around his cockhead, feeling its weight on your greedy tongue, and he pulls your hair just enough to make you moan. 

“Were you thinking about doing this all night?” Joshua asks, voice deceptively innocent. 

You can’t answer. You don’t want to. He tastes good, he even fucking smells good, and you want him bad. Instead, you take him to the base, feel him bump against your palate as you try not to gag. You can’t fit him all the way, so your hands make up the slack. He's even bigger fully hard, and already, you feel the ache in your cheeks, your temples. 

“Fuck, you must have been.” A groan, low and slutty. “Doing so good for me.”

You can’t tell if he’s being genuine or if this is his version of dirty talk, but it’s working. His hand is gentle, restrained behind you, letting you lead. The worse part of you wonders what it would take for him to break, but that’s a project for another time. 

Honestly, he doesn’t need to do much—again and again, you chase the feeling of his cock deep in your throat, enough to bruise. You don’t even care if you gag around him; when you do, he pulls your hair back, just enough to make your scalp prickle wonderfully, seemingly oblivious to the fact that you like it. 

You feel heady with arousal. You start to wonder how he is in bed, if he’d hold your hair like that, run his mouth like he is now. He's vocal, more than anyone else you’ve been with, and every little noise goes straight to your core, makes your thighs squeeze together pathetically. By now, you’re sure you’ve ruined this set of panties. 

“ ‘m close,” he says between breaths. “You don’t have to—” 

Stupid, stupid boy, you think. You don’t think you’ve wanted to do anything more. So instead of answering, you look up at him, eyes big and watery, and you suck hard. with your tongue nestled underneath his cockhead, right by the vein, it’s almost too easy. 

He groans, loud, satisfied, and you feel his release fill your mouth. Even after swallowing, it’s enough to run down your chin, get your makeup all smudged, and you like it. If you weren’t in trouble already, you are now. 

“Ah, I made you a mess,” Joshua says, gravelly and intimate. With one hand, he takes the handkerchief out of his suit jacket and cradles your jaw with the other. “Hold still.” 

“You,” you manage after clearing your throat. “You don’t have to sacrifice your pocket square.” 

“Yes, I do,” he chuckles. He wipes the corners of your mouth, your aching chin, and it almost makes you cry. “You literally gave me head in the back of a car. The pocket square can go.” 

He draws you up to his chest so you can rest your head on him. There’s a warm, melty feeling between your ribs, minus what you had just swallowed. Inexplicably, even as the horny fog clears from your brain, you still want to be close, closer than close and then closer still. 

“Head? I don’t like hearing you use normal people slang.” You pout, and you feel his laugh radiate from beneath his skin. “Good head, at least?” 

“Oh, please. Better than good,” he answers. “You’re perfect. perfect.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you start. Then he shuts you up with his mouth over yours, and you forget to think about liking him, loving him, or marrying him—this, you think you can do. 

—

“We’re in Barcelona!” 

You’re greeted by a pocket sized Somi and Soonyoung as they grin at you from your phone screen. They look to be on the balcony of a hotel suite, both wearing their matching silk robes. 

“Wow,” you reply. “And where was my invite?” 

“We did invite you, bitch,” Somi says, pulling down her sunglasses to look at you. “You said you were busy.” 

“Well, I mean…” you uncap a bottle of nail polish. “That's not untrue.”

“The ocean needs you,” Soonyoung whines, clutching his chest. “We need you.” 

“I'm sorry! Josh and I have been doing engagement stuff.” 

“Josh? Since when were you on a nickname basis?” 

“Whatever,” you interrupt. “What are you guys gonna do today?” 

“Beach,” Soonyoung responds brightly, with Somi’s Don’t let her change the subject! loud in the background. 

To be honest, you don’t even know the answer to her question. It just sort of happened, which seems to be the new normal for you. You’re also trying to pull apart last night–the freak-o-meter test came back inconclusive, and, for some reason, Joshua fell asleep with his arm over your middle. (Actually, you can think of a few reasons why he did that, but you’re not really sure how to feel about any of them.) 

“Ugh, I miss you guys.” You wipe at your pinkie toe, having smudged the polish beyond repair. “Drink a little extra sangria for me. And by little, I mean a lot.”  

“You’re still coming to Somi’s birthday, right?” Soonyoung asks.

“Yes, of course she is,” Somi replies. “Unless you can’t. Which I totally understand.”

“I still can,” you lie. “It just has to be more low-key than usual.” 

“No paparazzi,” Somi says. “And I'll tell everyone to keep you on the down low. Super duper down low.” 

“No way.” Damn, you curse to yourself—you keep screwing up painting your big toe. “Seriously?”

“Anything for my queen,” she giggles. “Pitbull is also confirmed, by the way. Secret Pitbull now.” 

“Good, because that’s the only reason I’m coming.” 

“Boo, you whore.” Somi wrinkles her nose at you playfully. (Is she being serious? Soonyoung asks in the background.) “Also, I'm still waiting for my update on the whole prince thing. I've been very patient.”

“No updates. Nothing to report,” you insist. Frustratingly, your cheeks are hot, like you’re in secondary school all over again. 

“You fucked him, huh?” 

You bite the inside of your cheek. 

“Halfway. Maybe.” 

The combined sound of Somi and Soonyoung’s gasps rips apart your phone speakers, and you draw in a big breath. I did it for the plot doesn’t quite seem like the right justification, not like it used to be. The plot never used to involve the M word, love, or any sort of feelings at all. Now things are more confusing than late-stage Grey’s Anatomy, but good luck explaining that over the phone.

“So you do like him,” Soonyoung says, saucer eyes sparkly on-screen.

“I don't know,” you answer. It’s true, you don’t. To you, like was flirting over text and french kissing. Paradoxically, you had told Joshua all of that, and he still decided to do whatever he did to you on the ledge of the fountain all those days ago. It felt like he ate the heart right out of your chest. Then you had to go and suck his dick, which never made anything less complicated. 

“Oh please. Look at you,” Somi laughs. “Yeah, you do.” 

Fuck. You’ve smudged all the polish off your big toe again. 

– 

Not much surprises you these days, but you can’t say you were expecting to see your riding boots to be the first thing you see when you arrive home in Cotria. 

The second thing you see is Jeonghan, smiling at you in his big, stupid riding helmet, camo-printed because he bought it when he was 15 and his head never grew much bigger since. 

“For old times sake?” He then holds your own helmet up by the straps, and whatever twinge of annoyance you had felt earlier makes way for something softer, more forgiving. “Everything's set up outside.” 

It doesn’t take you much time to take him up on the offer. If anything, a long ride usually solves all your problems, and you definitely have problems that need solving. 

You saddle up in the stables, wordlessly, moved by habit. It seems to be the same for Jeonghan, too. Even Peanut acts like it hasn’t been years since he’s seen him, and he noses at the box of sugar cubes like he always does. Then again, horses don’t hold grudges, at least, not like you do. Even Joshua seemed more optimistic about this encounter than you did. 

“So you're back back,” you say, hooking your feet in the stirrups. “Or do you have more jet-setting to do?” 

“Back back,” Jeonghan replies. “Missed home too much.” 

He cocks his head towards the old riding trail, the one that loops the long way through the woods. The gesture is but a formality—it’s the only path you ever take. Still, you follow behind his horse, watching the beige swoosh of Peanut’s tail the same way you did when you were a little girl and things were far simpler than they are now. 

Under the cornflower sky of a near-autumn, the forest seems endless. A flock of geese split the sky in two; a warm breeze haunts the canopy, scattering the afternoon light. The dirt under you is soft, peaty from the morning rain. The hoofbeats are silent today. 

Jeonghan’s horse slows so that you ride side-by-side. 

“Hey, cricket?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I…” Jeonghan clears his throat and pauses, quite unlike him. “I wanted to come out here to talk.” 

“Everything ok?” 

“Yeah, I…” Another pause. “I know things haven’t felt normal between us. For me, at least.” 

You almost drop the reins. A strange, floating feeling is set off in your body, like a flare. 

“Yeah,” you reply. “I was kinda hoping you would say that.” 

“I'm sorry.” A hard swallow. “I haven't really been the best brother, have I?” 

“Well, not…not really.” Quickly, frenetically, words bob up in the back of your mouth like you’re playing whack-a-mole. You had been waiting for this conversation to happen for so long, you realized you hadn’t planned much further than that. “It felt like you’d changed. A lot.” 

The wind feels like ribbons around you. You sway back and forth on Astrid, as if on a boat. 

“Was it the birthday party thing?” you ask. “I didn’t mean for it to…you know.” 

“Actually, that was my fault.” Jeonghan smiles bitterly. “I shouldn't have let Mom and Dad run me over like that. You should’ve been there. It was never really the same without you.” 

“Well, I should've come,” you admit. “So we both fucked up.” 

“Maybe,” he chuckles. “But the rest—definitely my fault. I made myself busy because I felt like I had to.” 

You’re growing to really hate that word. Jeonghan had to grow up, Joshua had to break up with his first love, you had to learn to pick up all the pieces of both of these things and try to fit them back into your life. 

“You didn’t even look back.” 

“I was scared, cricket. That if I kept looking back, I wouldn't be able to go forward. And I didn’t want to leave you behind, but I did. I think there was a happy middle somewhere, I just couldn’t find it.” 

“Jeonghan, you’re not really making sense right now,” you say, flattened, and he laughs. 

“I don't even know what I'm saying. I think I'm trying to say that I just want you to be happy. And that I'm sorry.” 

You bite your lip, as if to distract yourself from the strange pressure in your throat. You think you want to cry, but you’re not sure.

“But are you happy?” you ask. “With the coronation and everything? Did you even want this?” 

“I am, believe it or not. I know you don’t, but I'm not lying. Somewhere along the line, I started liking all of the talking, the traveling, the interviews. I like that I can help people. Some of it sucks, but not all of it.” He laughs, finally one that sounds like something you can remember. “Not everything you have to do is bad.” 

“Jeonghan, I'm getting married because of you. Because of this,” you say, trying to keep your voice from cracking. “I don't know how to do this. Any of this, not like you, not like Mom, or anyone.” 

This, in fact, does make Jeonghan stop. He stills and falls silent. At once, it seems the forest goes quiet too. 

“Don’t get married, then.” You don’t respond, so he says it again. “You don’t have to go through with it. Not for my sake, at least.” 

“What?” 

“I've been thinking about it ever since it happened. I can talk to everyone. You’d rather not be with the guy, right?”

Your tongue freezes in your mouth. You thought you had an answer, but it refuses to come out. 

“I have a duty to protect you, too. I’ll be fine with or without the press.” 

“Jeonghan,” you say quietly. Many moons ago, you would have laughed at the word duty, but instead, your stomach turns over and over and over. “You don’t have to.” 

“I want to,” is his simple answer. “I want to because I care about you. We can figure out the rest.” 

Something in your bones feels heavy. You’d also been waiting to hear those words, but it didn’t feel as freeing as you thought it would. You think about Joshua, his books and his perfectly placed bookmarks, his dumb dad jokes, the way he reaches for your hand, fingertips before palm. 

“Can I think about it?” 

“Of course. The engagement ball is probably happening either way, but it’s no big deal. Bigger engagements have been called off in far worse circumstances.” 

You’re having trouble believing him, but you have no other choice. Your life would certainly get a lot easier if everything were to just end. No more press releases, scripts, or awkward pictures. And no more worrying about if you could go out on the weekends or just how much of yourself to give up to make things work. 

“There's no rush.” He turns to look at you with the same wild shine in his eyes that you’d grown to miss so much. “Truce?”

That, somehow, you’re much happier to hear. You thought you’d be angrier than this, feel the usual metal-red of your gut, but all that’s left is a sobering feeling of relief, of home. At last, things feel close to normal. 

“Truce.” 

So you ride and ride, but a decision doesn’t come to you as easily as you thought. The sunset breaks; the word duty clings to you, unshakable, unrelenting. 

—

Somehow, you have gone full circle: at the end of a long day, you find yourself back at the piano, much like you did when you were seven, and the only thing you could do right was play Hot Cross Buns. 

Joshua had bought an unreasonable amount of music books, half guitar for him, half piano for you. You’d forgotten just how much you had liked playing until that night, many nights ago, when you and he had first muddled through that duet. 

Yesterday, you and your parents had tea at the waterfront before you had left the country. You were still undecided on the engagement; frustratingly, the needle hadn’t moved much in either direction since Jeonghan had raised his proposal to you. 

Congratulations, your mother had told you, right over her cup of oolong. 

For what? 

You’ve risen to the occasion. You’ve grown up. 

To you, this was not a compliment. You didn’t know what it was. You had twisted the ring on your finger, back and forth, a habit you picked up after all the time you spent wearing it. You wondered if somewhere, you had become exactly like Jeonghan, molded and spun into someone unrecognizable. Maybe that was why Joshua finally seemed to like you.

Have you practiced for your first dance? your father asked, and you no longer had time to worry about the state of your personality—you had other fires to put out. 

Really, that’s why you’re at the piano today. You thought you could play the damn tune and somehow remember all the ballroom dancing lessons you had taken when you were younger. Unsurprisingly, it hasn’t worked yet. 

There’s a knock at the doorframe. “Come in,” you say, already knowing that it’s Joshua. No one else does that; Jihoon barges in and just starts talking, and you can hear Joshua’s parents from a mile away because of all the jewelry they have on. 

“Just wanted to see what you were up to,” Joshua says. He leans against the frame of the piano, already dressed down for the night. 

“Nothing,” you reply. “Just magically hoping that I remember how to ballroom dance.” 

“Well, first things first, you can’t dance sitting down.” He chuckles, and you pull your lips tight. 

“I'm serious, Josh,” you whine. 

“You really don’t remember?” He gives you one of those looks, one that you’re quite used to now, with the judgmental wrinkle of the brow. “Didn’t you take lessons?” 

“Yeah, like…fifty million years ago.” 

“I couldn’t tell,” he says, grinning something foolish. “You don’t look a day over fifty.” Then he offers you his hand, which you take, and he easily pulls you from the bench. 

“Flattered,” you say, unable to push down the corners of your smile. “You gonna teach this senior citizen a few moves?” 

“Perhaps, as my good deed for the day.” He holds your hand, still firmly in his, and slides it up his arm to rest on his bicep. “Left hand here,” he tells you. 

“Are you flirting with me?” 

“Not yet,” Joshua laughs. “The ballroom hold ring a bell?” His other hand finds your free one, and you interlace fingers simply, easily. Then, the warmth of a hand between your shoulder blades, one that draws you to his chest. 

“I think the only dancing I know how to do is half drunk in the dark. Can’t exactly throw it back on you in front of God and country.” 

Joshua grins, a big one, and you, traitorously, feel your cheeks get prickly. 

“I wouldn't want God looking at you like that,” he teases. 

“And country’s already seen it all.” 

“They should consider themselves very lucky, then.” His eyes meet yours, lit by the scattered light of the chandelier. “It's my turn to ask you to let me lead.” 

“Fine,” you pout, noticing that familiar warmth in your stomach. 

Joshua begins to count your steps off (one, two, three—ow, that’s my foot! —sorry!). He’s patient with you, more patient than you think you deserve. His hand seems to slot perfectly into the curve of your back; his gaze settles onto you in a way that makes your chest feel heavy, molten. 

“For someone who goes out so much, you have a terrible sense of rhythm,” Joshua says, teasing. 

“Hey,” you object. “Maybe I just have a bad teacher.” 

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” 

“Well, I'm not about to blame Britney Spears.” 

Joshua laughs, and the sound is so close to you, you can feel it on your skin. 

“I still think it’s the student’s fault.” 

“Me?!” Perfectly timed, your sock-clad feet collide (yours, striped and fuzzy, his, plain white). “Impossible.” 

“Too distracting,” he murmurs, and you notice how unfairly pretty his eyes are. “You bump into me, criticize me, you look at me like that…”

You feel dizzy. You don’t know what Joshua’s doing to you, but it’s mean. Your face is warm, and normally you’d blame it all on the alcohol but you haven’t had any. Worst of all, the soft part of you, the lizard-brained, impulsive part, can’t stop thinking about his lips and how they would feel on yours.

It’s a thought you don’t let linger, much like all of the other half-thoughts you have, and you kiss him, as if it was a reprieve from the terrible, horrible way he’s making you feel. (It isn’t.) 

“You talk too much,” you tell Joshua, right against his lips. “Not enough teaching.” 

“I'm putting you in remediation.” 

“Devastating.” 

“And giving you homework.” 

“Whatever shall I do?” 

Joshua answers that question for you. He kisses you, once, twice, still not enough, and, somehow, things feel more simple than they ever had before. 

—

Jihoon’s eyes are dark, dagger-sharp in the rearview mirror. 

“We’re coming up,” he says. “A few minutes out.” 

“I know,” you answer. Yunjin was successful, almost too successful, in her task of finding you an appropriately revealing dress for a newly engaged twenty-something at the party of the year. The filmy silk stretches around your thighs; the cowl neck flirts with the neckline of the bikini top you have on underneath. 

You look good, probably better than how you’ve looked in months. And yet, for some reason, you don’t feel good, at least, not how you’d thought you’d feel on the way to the only event you’d been looking forward to this year.

Somi’s gift rattles in your lap. It’s covered in this loud, hot pink wrapping paper unbecoming of something you had spent years tracking down on the antiques circuit. Normally, you’d have a laugh with Jihoon about it, maybe take some selfies in the car, but instead, you find yourself spinning your ring around your finger like you always seem to do these days.

You think of Jeonghan, of Joshua. Of course, what you do or don’t do on your best friend’s birthday is none of their business (although, very inconveniently, Jeonghan did have some event this weekend, and Joshua was traveling). But still, you think of the boldface headlines, the whispering gossip forums, the washed-out image of you in your little dress on the cover of a cheap magazine. This wasn’t exactly a tame party, and things weren’t just about you anymore, not like they used to be. 

Marking your arrival isn’t the GPS nor Jihoon, rather, it’s the firefly buzz of the cameras outside your limo as it’s forced to come to a stop. You squint, trying to see past the tint of your windows, and see Somi, radiant in her birthday tiara, as she pushes through the crowd. Behind her is the villa she rented, illuminated by pink and gold strobe lights. 

You crack open the car door and are met with a stifling deluge of camera flashes. Music pulses through the air, enough to feel beneath your heels. 

“Who's my favorite princess?” Somi exclaims, throwing her arms open. “You made it! you look hot.” 

“Not as hot as the birthday girl,” you reply, and you let her squeeze the air out of you in a wonderful, bone-crushing hug. “What's with all the cameras?” 

“Professional photographers. Just wanted something to remember the night by, because we are blacking out.” She giggles, already tipsy. “Come, come, we’re doing shots inside.” 

“Without me?” 

“We’ll catch you up.” 

Somi drags you by the hand through the sea of people, and you watch the cameras follow as they always do. She leads you up the stairs, underneath the towering balloon display, and into the foyer, already darkened, lit only by a disco ball chandelier and the neon backlights. 

You spot Soonyoung by a champagne tower that seems twice his size, as promised. He's in a leather jacket, no shirt under, and you watch his eyes light up as they meet yours. 

“A shot for her highness,” he shouts over the music. 

“I thought this was champagne.” 

“Tequila's close enough.” He laughs, eyes upturned, bright like gemstones. 

The first shot goes down easy. It always does. So does the second, unsurprisingly. Around the third is when Somi tells you that the strippers are coming in an hour. (—Strippers?! —Not everyone has a fiancé, you know.) 

And, just like that, you’re back to the beginning. It’s hard to think over the ridiculously good Kesha mix the DJ is playing, but, terribly, you think you’re starting to understand what Jeonghan was talking about. You’re still not sure how you feel about duty, responsibility, sacrifice, those heavy words that feel impossibly heavier in your mouth, but all you know is that, as much fun as you’re having now, it comes at a fair price. 

Somi told you nothing, no compromising pictures, no drama, would reach the press, but, as hard as she may try, you feel like enough people have laid eyes on you already that someone was bound to hear something. If not now, then definitely in a few hours when everyone’s on at least two and a half substances, and all bets are off.

Briefly, you recall your appearance at the derby, the memory like a shard of glass. You had stood guileless next to Joshua, tripping over your words because you hadn’t cared enough to read the damn briefing, and he had covered it up with a dad joke or two. Coming up with those abominations must have been hard enough for someone whose first book was the Oxford Dictionary, but you don’t even think God and all his angels could cover up this. More than that, the thought of everyone having to try anyway makes your gut twist. 

Someone tells you to smile for a selfie. You recognize her, but you don’t remember her name (Amelia or Alicia, one of Somi’s friend of a friends. On second glance, there are definitely more than 200 people here). Let's dance! another voice shouts in your ear. 

Your head hurts. You hate the idea that Jeonghan might be a little right, but you hate even more that you’re starting to agree with him. Maybe you need another shot. 

“Your gift,” you say, fighting over the chorus of Your Love Is My Drug. “Somi!” 

“Oh my god, you did not!” she squeals. She clasps her hands over yours, wrapped around the box, and draws them to her. “Let me take it to the table. I’ll meet you by the pool—oh, oh, there’s a hot dog stand out there too!”

“Actually,” you start. You’re not that drunk, not yet, but now you think you can feel the ground start to sway under you. It wouldn’t be too far a stretch to say that in half an hour, after a little time at the bar, you’d probably be spending the night, no question. “I think I have to run.”

“Aw, really?” Somi tilts her head and squints, as if trying to read your mind. 

“I am so sorry,” you tell her, as sincerely as one can over a pop song from the 2000s. “Swear I'll make it up to you.” 

“Life stuff, right?” 

“Yeah.”  

“It's ok,” she says. “Really really. Go home, figure your shit out, and we can have our own party.” 

She holds your joined hands to her heart. Whatever look you gave her, she believed. That, or she knows you better than you think. 

So you leave. The car ride home is silent. Jihoon doesn’t ask questions, and you can still hear the sound of the music ringing in your ears, on and on and on. 

—

You think the worst thing you’ve ever woken up to was the Crazy Frog ringtone of one of the guys you had slept with during university. 

The second worst has got to be five voice memos and three consecutive missed Facetime calls from Somi, which is the first thing you see upon opening your eyes. 

“Oh fuck,” you murmur, still coming to. Your bed is empty, but you see Joshua's suitcase in the corner of the room. He must have come home early this morning, while you were still sleeping. 

You crack open your text messages. 

–OH MY GOD.

–I AM SO SO SORRY. 

–someone must have gotten paid off for last night’s pictures…i had no idea i swear 

Then a voice memo. Then another voice memo. then a PopCrave Twitter screenshot: YOU CAN TAKE THE PRINCESS OUT OF THE PARTY–OR CAN YOU? followed by the worst, most incriminating photo of you and Soonyoung, arms linked, throwing back a shot. 

“No, no, no, no.” You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling the stone-cold drop of your heart to your feet. “Fuck. Fuck.” 

Shit. You have to find Joshua and make it right. 

Somehow, you thought it wouldn’t matter, that you didn’t care what did or didn’t get out as long as you were able to have a good time—you desperately search for that same feeling, knowing that it’s long, long gone. You don’t even think you truly ever believed that. 

You race down the palace hallways, ones that feel far more familiar than the rigid bastions they were when you first got here, but it’s Joshua who finds you before you find him. Or rather, it’s his voice you hear, trickling out from behind the library door. 

Suddenly, you’re five again, and you’re spying on Jeonghan talking to your parents. You peek through the crack of the doorframe. As Somi would say, nightmare blunt rotation: there stands Joshua, surrounded by both sets of parents, and no one looks happy. 

“We knew it,” another voice says—your mother. “We’re sorry, but we said this would happen.” 

“It’s no matter. There’s nothing left to do but call the engagement off.” 

The room goes quiet. You notice your hands are shaking. Your face feels numb.  

“You’re right. I don't think anyone’s getting what they want out of this, anyway.” 

“We’ll cancel the ball. There’s no way around it. Likely a relief, right, Joshua?” 

The moment seems to squirm, suspended in time. This is what you were waiting for, right? Your parents were right—no one wanted this anyway. You certainly didn’t, and now you get your get out of jail free card. On top of that, you get to hear what you’d been expecting all along—that Joshua never liked you, that this was fun and all, but he’s ready to stop playing pretend. 

“I…I disagree.” You freeze. “She's my fiancée. I made a commitment to her, and I'm not going to walk away.” 

“Joshua, my dear, this arrangement was never going to work. You can be honest.” 

This is the part where Joshua nods, does his perfectly symmetric smile, and agrees. This is what he does, what he’s been doing since forever. The story always ends the same way. That was the point. 

Instead: “I am being honest. Since when was it illegal to go to your best friend’s birthday party? I don't care what the rest of the world has to say. She’s not who they, or you, think she is.” Through the door-gap, you watch the pursed, resolute draw of Joshua’s lips. “You didn’t even invite her here to talk about her own engagement. You never once gave her a chance.” 

A stunned silence falls over the room. 

 “I’m sorry, but this is how I feel. I won't let you take another girl I love from me. Not again.” 

Your hand flies over your mouth, and something twists deep in you, like you’re drowning from the inside out. You can’t, won’t, believe what you just heard. That somehow, beyond all the fighting, the quiet nights, the snide remarks and the fake smiles, that Joshua loved you? Loved? Enough to say all that to the people that ruled his life with an iron fist? None of this made sense, but nothing’s made sense since you got here. 

The room erupts into noise, peals of voices all colliding into each other, and you do what you do best—you leave. 

—

No one talks about that morning. You don’t even think anyone knows you were there—part of you wishes that you actually weren’t, so you didn’t have all this on your mind. (Joshua, later that day: I got you something from Seoul. From his suitcase, a bottle of soju. Just kidding. Then a jade bracelet, so vibrant it looked like the ocean.) No one talked about Somi, and no one talked about the party. 

In fact, everyone had just rolled on as usual, all the way to the end of the week, the day of your engagement ball. Even you did. The word love felt so big, so burdensome, when Joshua had said it to his parents, but you didn't mind it on you.

The lingering touches, late night talks, tea made the way you like—nothing really had changed much since shit hit the fan, but now you knew that was the label. You guess that when you told Joshua you had never been in love before, you were really telling the truth. Either that, or he was just saying whatever the hell he needed to stop your engagement from imploding. 

Still, you found yourself still reaching for him. There was an unfamiliar comfort about his nearness. You woke up this morning cradled to his side, and, for once, it wasn’t a scene you wanted to erase. 

Now, your hairstylist hoses your blowout down with hairspray. You’d spent the better part of this morning sitting in different chairs, hair, makeup, nails. A part of you waits for the other shoe to drop: Joshua’s mother would waltz in and tell you, Surprise! You’re a single woman again, just as you should be. 

It never happens. You’re wrapped in various mists and creams and powders, all the while fielding all the same questions about the ball (—Excited for tonight? Yeah, of course. —How does it feel being the surprise couple of the year? Surprising.)

It’s not until Yunjin comes in, wheeling in your giant, sparkly engagement gown, all Italian lace and satin brocade, that things feel real. 

The dress itself is beautiful, a pale champagne number, gathered at the waist with a smattering of crystals down the train. Earlier, when you’d first tried it on, it looked like a costume fit for the girl playing wife. It was another smothering thing that hung on you, just like everything else in your life. 

Today, you watch your form tall in the mirror. You meet her eyes, her uncertain mouth. It’s you, for sure, but there’s a stillness about you that you can’t quite put a finger on. Maybe Joshua’s demeanor was contagious. 

Yunjin laces your bodice up, careful eyelet by eyelet—“You’re nervous, huh?” 

“Is it really that obvious?” 

She laughs. “Breathe. You’re not getting married. Not yet, at least.”

“Yunjin, isn’t it weird that no one has talked to me about Somi’s birthday? Everyone on the planet saw the leaks.” 

“Maybe they finally learned to stop giving a shit. You looked hot, you had a good time, end of story. It’s not like anyone died.” 

True. She grabs your shoulders and looks at you through the reflection of the mirror. 

“Smile. Enjoy yourself. You look so, so beautiful.” You take a deep, soaking breath. You think about Joshua and all the sharp edges of his voice when he said he loved you. You had argued with him a lot, and you had never heard him like that. “You want this, right?” 

Well, when she puts it like that? Yeah, you do. You think you really do. 

—

The Great Hall is unrecognizable when you stand before it; the pink and white zinnias have been replaced by bouquets of calla lily and eucalyptus, the arched ceilings, once cold and imposing, now are bathed in the buttery, warm glow of candlelight. And the too-big space, usually empty, is now filled with partygoers, radiant in their best dress. 

You stand at the top of the grand staircase. A thrill, anxious and skittering, runs up your bones. You’re reminded of your last big public showing at the derby, of the sea of microphones and the eye of the camera and the crowd, all staring you down. 

You run through the cruel motions. First, a curtesy, so slow you think the audience can see you tremble. Then you take the first step down the stairs, and you watch them turn to you like the tanned halo-faces of sunflowers. 

There, in the center of the crowd stands Joshua, unwavering. He's wearing a deep blue tuxedo, unfairly flattering (though, the lone curl of hair falling into his eyes is strong competition). Meeting his gaze, you watch the corners of his mouth fold up in a way that reminds you to breathe. In, out. You’ve got this. 

Every step, you feel like you’re learning to walk for the first time, like you've lost your sea legs. Amongst the guests, you spot Jeonghan, next to him Jihoon. Then back to Joshua, like your eyes can’t stay away. He shoots you a covert thumbs up—you’d expect nothing less from the corniest man on Earth—but, nonetheless, it makes the long walk to the center of the room feel much shorter, despite the torture devices on your feet (Louboutins, not broken in).

One, two steps, and you’re face to face with your fiancé. Your heart is still racing, thrumming against the cage of your bodice like it's trying to escape. You’re sure the whole congregation could hear it if not for the quartet that’s come to life, now playing the opening notes of Blue Danube. 

Yes, that’s right, you tell yourself. You still have to dance in front of the whole fucking country. 

Before you crash out and make this a national emergency, you feel the warmth of Joshua’s touch. Fingertips before palm, always the same, he finds your hand, like he manages to do every single time. 

“I’ve got you,” he says, low enough for only you to hear. And for the first time, you believe him. 

—

Really, you could have gotten away with saying nothing. It would be much easier, to be honest. 

The ball had gone off without a hitch so far. The music was good, the food even better, and your parents were somehow silenced, instead opting to dance among the crowd like they were young again. Still, you can’t seem to put your mind at ease. With everything that had happened this week, Jeonghan’s offer only seemed to weigh heavier, more urgently upon you. And of course, there was the matter of Joshua choosing to opt into your engagement, against all odds. 

You realize you had gotten quite good at running away from things—your family, your responsibilities, the media, even Joshua—not knowing how to bear the weight of an impossible duty. Actually, you thought it was a royal failing until you had seen Joshua in the library that morning, jaw set, unbending. 

“Hey, Josh?” you ask, with a few bats of the eyelashes to soften the blow. 

He tilts his head in that way he does, and his gaze softens. Damn you, you think. Trying to distract me with those horrible, pretty eyes.  

“Can we talk about Sunday?” 

“What about Sunday?” He still looks confused, and you know the look well enough at this point to know he’s not faking it. 

“Um…Sunday morning. After the party,” you say slowly, as if giving yourself time to back out, just in case. “I heard you talking with our parents.” 

In an instant, his expression changes, and his eyebrows roll into their usual furrow. You feel his hand falter behind your shoulder blades. 

“Oh,” Joshua’s voice drops. “That.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say, realizing all you do is apologize. “It was supposed to be a small thing, no cameras, I barely even stayed—.”

“Hey, it’s ok,” Joshua interrupts. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” 

“I-I know,” you fib. The thing about pretending is that you’ve both become so good at it that you have trouble believing him. “It’s just that I also heard what…what you said.” 

Somehow, the wrinkle between his brows grows deeper. 

“I said a lot of things that morning.” 

You press your lips thin, feeling what you’re about to say ball up on your tongue. Easily, you could change the subject; you didn’t have to know anything, really, you could stay silent and let the world work around you, just as you had been taught. But you watch the soft twist of Joshua’s gaze, how he studies your expression, and you know you can’t go back to how things used to be. 

“You said you…” You take a hard swallow. All the blood in your body only wants to exist in the apples of your cheeks, away from your brain where you need it most. “You loved me.” 

At once, the world spins off-axis. You feel the anxious flutter of Joshua’s heart under your palm, and your own stomach flips in its cage. The L word coming out of your mouth seems ten-thousand times more ridiculous than anything he could say, probably because you can’t remember the last time you actually said it and it came out all wrong. 

He must feel the same way. For once, he can’t meet your eyes. His mouth opens and then closes, as if hoping to delete what you had just said. Maybe you would just keep dancing, beat by beat, and this would all go away.

Silly girl, you think, traitorously. Pick a damn side. Either he likes you or he doesn’t. The problem is that, somehow, both options hurt your feelings. 

“I mean, I totally get it if you just said it to keep up the act,” you cut in. “There are a lot of reasons why this is a good idea.” 

“The act?” 

“Well, yeah,” you reply. “Isn’t that what this is? Haven’t we just been lying to everyone? To ourselves?” 

Joshua’s hand at your waist stiffens before he draws you closer to him. You expect him to roll his eyes, do one of those exaggerated sighs that he does when you’re being difficult. 

Instead he leans in, close enough for you to feel his voice against your skin. 

“Do you think I was lying back there? Or now?” 

Your heart lurches. 

“I—no, but.” You pause. Every single coherent thought you’ve ever had scatters to the wind. “Well.” 

“Because I’m not,” Joshua says, this time, more softly. “Not about this. Or us.” 

“But how? Why?” You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling your chest swell in a way it never has before. “You’re perfect, and I'm…I’m me.” 

“That’s why,” he answers, simply. “You’re smart, funny, honest—sometimes too honest, even. You reminded me there was a better version of me that I had left behind. One that wasn’t perfect, but was happy.” 

He holds you in his gaze the same way he did in the garden, carved by moonlight. An impossible warmth fills your skin; at once, it feels like, in your vision, there is only him, like you're in a cartoon. 

“At the same time, I understand if—” Joshua starts. 

“I feel the same,” you blurt out. “I…I don’t know what this is, and I don’t think I ever really did, but I want to try.” 

You watch the surprise write itself all over his doe eyes, his unfairly rounded cheeks. From by the hors d'oeuvres, nosy Jeonghan peeks over the shoulder of another guest, already familiar with your lack of volume control. You watch him grin something stupid, triumphant. 

“You’re uptight, judgmental, and you make the worst jokes. But I…I think I might be falling for you too.” 

Saying it is like getting peeled back, terrible layer by layer, like you wrapped a hand around your heart and ripped it out your chest. And yet you’re glowing, newly-bitten with something that feels like freedom.  

“I thought you said I was perfect,” Joshua says, the pink of his lips already unraveling into a smile. This one, you think, finally reaches his eyes. 

“Shush, you—” And amongst a chorus of Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! (which would be, quite frankly, humiliating in any other scenario), you finally give in to your adoring public, and kiss. 

—

The walk back to your bedroom is a blur. All you remember are hands—hands on the small of your back, hands riding up the length of your thigh, hands in your hair, pulling at your roots. You remember hands, and the taste of Joshua’s mouth. 

It’s a walk you are not proud of, one that you’re glad happened in the dark, with all the guests gone home. 

“Did I tell you how beautiful you are?” Joshua says, pressed to the hollow of your neck as you fumble with the handle of the door to your room. “Couldn’t take my eyes off you. No one could.” 

Then his lips on yours, before you finally remember how to open a door. 

“Fuck, Josh,” you breathe between kisses, stumbling backwards until your back hits the vanity. “Need you, need you so bad.” 

He bites your lip, lets you sigh into his mouth. 

“Dress, off,” you tell him, and you lean forward on the table. Obediently, Joshua gets to work. His touch feels fiery, electric on your skin. 

In the mirror, you’re able to see the damage: your lipstick, smudged beyond repair, your blown-out pupils under your heavy lashes. There’s a hickey on your collarbone. 

“Now you have me wishing you'd wear one of those party dresses,” Joshua murmurs, still working at the lacing at your waist. “Far easier to take off.” 

“Really. The same ones that got me in big trouble with you lot?"

"For what it's worth," he replies, before kissing the back of your neck, then the ticklish space under your ear to make you laugh. "I always liked you in those. Even before we met." 

"No way." He’s finished with the lacing; your dress falls to your feet in a glorious heap of silk and lace, leaving you in your slip. Another kiss to your jaw, your cheek. "You hated them." 

"I almost bought a copy of Insider, the one with the cover of you in the black dress with the long sleeves." 

"Shut up," you laugh again, somewhere in between kisses. He’s talking about Soonyoung's New Year’s Eve party, a few years back. You were getting out the back of a cab, alcohol-flushed and on a phone call with God knows who. "I still have it, you know. I could wear it for you one of these days." 

"Don't tempt me." Joshua kneels, bending down to undo your heels. You feel him press his lips to the back of your knee, your thigh. “Friday. Dinner?” 

“Done.” 

Then he stands back to full height and leans into you, just so you can feel him. Like clockwork, your skin prickles wonderfully even just thinking about blowing him in the back of the limo, that night he had held you down on his cock. 

Joshua must see how you squeeze your legs together. He pushes your slip up over the curve of your ass; you feel the rough of his hands over your skin, over the flimsy lace you have on for underwear. Then, before you can say a word, he pulls the waistband back, meanly, enough to tug on the hood of your clit, and lets it snap back against your skin. 

“Oh, fuck,” you keen. You had no idea you were so sensitive, but Joshua’s foreplay game was way better than you thought. “Please, Shua.” 

“Oh? So you like when I'm a little mean?” 

You watch your face in the mirror flush pink, your bitten lips fall open in surprise. He pulls tight on your panties again, loving how your eyes squeeze shut. 

“Maybe.” You pause, humiliated. Fuck it, the cat’s already out of the bag. “Yeah.” 

Joshua’s hands are warm, so warm, when they peel the fabric down your trembling thighs. 

“Legs apart, darling,” he tells you, mouth pressed to your shoulder. “So you like to boss me around the castle, but now you want me to tell you what to do? Is that so?” 

Before you can answer, you feel a finger along the seam of your cunt. You can’t see Joshua’s face in the mirror, but you can sure see yours, and you hate how even the smallest of touches has you drooling. Then a touch to your swollen clit, just rough enough to draw a gasp from you. 

 “I-it’s different,” you protest. Two fingers now, both rolling your clit under them. A whimper tumbles out of your chest, and your hips seem to be moving on their own accord. “Didn’t know you had…experience.” 

“Still not sure what made you think otherwise.” A quiet chuckle, then the slow, agonizing push of one of his fingers inside you. “Fuck, you love that, huh? Soaking my hand.”

“Yeah…” The vanity table suddenly feels too crowded to support the weight of your body, especially like this, as Joshua continues to work your clit with his other digit. Feeling your body surge again with heat, you push aside your makeup bag, all your stupid little bottles, so you can prop yourself up on your arms.

Another finger, and your legs are shaking. Quickly, he seems to have figured out how to hit your g-spot every time, every pump of his hand knocking into you just the way you like.  

“I think it was how annoying you were that did you in,” you finally answer, trying your best to put up a fair fight. “Kinda detracts from your sex appeal.” 

“Annoying?” Joshua asks, right up against the shell of your ear. Like this, you can see him in the mirror, and it almost sends you over. The dark hair in his face, the insatiable look in his eyes. Then a third finger, and your eyes roll back. “Am I annoying you? Doesn’t really seem like it.” 

Your body answers for you. You feel yourself tighten around his fingers, fuck, you’re so close, you feel your head start to spin. You watch your reflection shake her head, glassy-eyed and dumb. 

He laughs cruelly. His free hand reaches up to find your tits, and, over the slip, he grabs one, rough like he’s a meaner man, like he’s slutting you out. 

At once, you feel the lightning heat of your release. You cry out, airy and high-pitched, and feel your body rock against Joshua’s as he pins you between himself and the vanity. 

“There you go,” he murmurs. His hand slows, letting you ride out your high, before he pulls out. “Wanted to do this ever since I kissed you that night.” 

“Which night?” you ask, catching your breath. A kiss to your shoulder blade, the nape of your neck. 

“The night you taught me to kiss. Or rather, tried to.” 

Ah, yes. The night you told him what Shark Tale was, and the night you made out for so long, you felt it on your lips in the morning. Dumb fucking Joshua, stupid and in love. The affection that surges through your body makes you mad. 

“You needed lessons.” 

“Not really, don’t you think?” 

“Bed. You’re talking too much,” you insist, turning around to see him. “Also, you’re wearing too much.” 

“Back to arguing with me, I see. Can’t stay away.” Joshua’s shit-eating grin prompts you to yank his tie impatiently, shutting him up. It comes off easily, just as his belt and the waistband of his slacks. (You weren’t about to let them best you a second time).

“Maybe ‘cause you find a way to be difficult about everything.” You wrinkle your nose, and Joshua’s grin only grows wider. “Don’t make me give you another order,” you warn, fully aware that since you guys got here, it’d been him doing the orders. 

You pull your slip over your head, now only in your bra, and lay back in the bed. You think of all the sleepless nights, then the ones spent talking, the ones in his arms. To think they would all culminate to this, to you now watching Joshua undo button by button with a desire unlike any other you’ve felt—it would almost be unbelievable if you weren’t doing it right now.

Like a striptease, you watch his chest peek out between the linen of his shirt. He's wearing a necklace today, one that settles meanly between his pecs. As he moves lower, you can’t help but notice the outline of his cock in his briefs, the spot of precum on the fabric. 

Traitorously, you feel your mouth water. The shirt comes off, and your lungs fill with another shaky breath. 

You know you’re both letting your freak flag fly (one of you more surprising than the other) but it’s in this moment, caught in the lamplight, that you realize how much things have really changed. Still, you’re not able to tell Joshua that this is the first time you’re sleeping with someone you might be in the L word with, but you think he sees it too, or at least, reads the look on your face. 

You feel the dip of the bed underneath as he joins you.

“Are you ok? That wasn’t too much, right?” 

“No, it was…it was good. really good,” you admit, feeling your face heat up again. “I just…I dunno. I like you a lot, that’s all.” 

“Hm?” 

“I—” you stutter, and your mouth freezes up again. “I said I like you a lot.” 

“Sorry, I just wanted to hear you say it twice.” He sees the dismay on your face and smiles. “Hm…I like you an adequate amount. On a good day.” 

Against your will, you crack the fattest smile you think your body is capable of. “You are the worst. The absolute worst, and I still want you to fuck me.” 

Upon hearing this, Joshua does not waste time. That he does—it isn’t long before he has your knees hiked to your chest, cock between your pussy lips. 

“Say you want it,” he whispers. You feel the cold kiss of his chain on your chest, the slick rock of his length between your legs. He's so hard, so big, your cunt already aches at the thought of it. 

“Want it.” Your voice comes out small, breathy. You would fight back, but you’re realizing you quite like this side of him. “Please.” 

When the head of his cock presses into you, there is no hiding. Already, you moan, sweet and loud, feeling the familiar pressure in your gut. 

“K-keep going,” you babble. Fuck, he barely fit in your mouth and now he’s stuffing your cunt. You wrench your eyes shut, listening to him talk you through it (—Look at you taking me so well. Feels good, huh? You’re so beautiful. Honestly, it’s a miracle Joshua’s ex never had a royal baby with how much they must have fucked.) 

Your second orgasm comes quickly, not long after Joshua bottoms out. He groans right in the space where your neck meets your shoulder, and it’s the best noise you think you’ve heard in your life. 

The third comes slowly, more intensely. With your knees to your chest, you think you can feel Joshua all the way in your stomach. Every stroke fucks the sound out of you, his cockhead right up against your sweet spot as he fills you again and again. Sometime between orgasm two and three, he’s pulled your tits out from your bra, left marks across your chest. 

“Want you to touch yourself,” he tells you, voice low.

Mindlessly, you listen. One hand finds your nipple, the other your clit, and you let yourself get lost in the feeling. 

“F-feels good, Shua.” He enters you again, all the way, and the pleasure is white-hot. “O-oh, fuck,” you warble. 

“You’re so good at listening to me, you should do it all the time,” he murmurs. “There you go. Take it, take it, just like that. This must be what I have to do to get you to be nice, hm?” 

All you can do is stare up at him, positively fucked dumb, and take it, just as he told you to. One, two strokes, and you feel yourself get impossibly tight; “Fill me, need it, need it,” you whine, delirious. Everything from the look in his eyes, the flushed sweat over his brow, his collarbones to the way his expression responds with every word you say, makes you wonder why you wasted time fucking anyone else.

When he comes, he bites your shoulder, hard, and it’s what you need to follow soon after. You feel so fucking full, so satisfied, you think you could die happy here. 

Joshua flops down on the bed next to you, boneless. You think he’s about to say something akin to that you should have put a towel down, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls your body to him, lets you feel the warmth of his skin play against yours. 

He’s murmuring wonderful things to you, which you would gladly reciprocate if words weren’t coming to you one letter a minute. It’s not your fault though—you need to recover physically, emotionally, spiritually after getting the soul fucked out of you.

Then, “Me or you shower first?”

You groan as a response. 

“I’m serious.” 

“Together?” you offer weakly. 

“Fair chance we won’t just be showering then.” 

“Oh nooo.” 

That’s all Joshua needs to whisk you to the bathroom, where, indeed, he seems to be right yet again. 

—

The spring morning washes over Acros like a second skin. The birdsong rouses you; through the curtains comes sunlight from the garden, spackled on the wall as if spots on a doe. 

It’s been almost a year since your parents had told you that you were marrying Joshua Hong, prince of Acros. Six months since he had told you he had loved you. Two months since you and Jeonghan had pulled off your first joint production at the youth theater (a roaring success). One month since you were fully, fully moved in, Astrid and Jihoon included. 

After your engagement ball, you and Joshua had agreed to take it slow, as slow as two people who had very publicly announced their wedding could. But still, somehow your parents, both sets, could tolerate the two of you wanting to do things the right way. Perhaps they were still shocked things worked out as well as they did. 

“Morning,” you call out. The bed beside you is cold. “Josh?” 

You’re surprised he’s up. Last night, he went out with you, Somi, and Soonyoung. Somehow, he had drunk enough to get up and solo karaoke a Whitney Houston song, although you’re suspecting the alcohol was just a cover for his true intentions. 

Then you look out the window. You spot Joshua, seated on the bench overlooking the garden. This time of year, the roses are in full bloom, their bright heads reaching for the sky in brilliant red and gold. 

When you go to join him outside, he’s no longer at the bench. You actually don’t know where the fuck he went, but it’s no matter. Here, you’re able to appreciate the beauty of the season, the rolling green of the country you’re now calling home. 

It was also here where you had your first real conversation with Joshua without fighting, funnily enough. Now, you’d say the both of you were more agreeable, but that’d be a lie—somehow, you think you actually enjoy bickering with him, but that’s a conversation for another day. 

Behind you, someone (Joshua) clears his throat. 

“Now, what are you—” you say, spinning around. It was too damn early for games, but Joshua had no shortage of bad ideas. 

It’s then that you see Joshua behind you, on one knee. His smile tells you everything you have to know, and every thought in your mind freezes in an instant. 

“When I first saw you, I knew I would marry you,” he starts. That's a joke he’s probably been saving for months now, but instead of rolling your eyes, you can’t help but laugh, like you’re a broken soundboard. “No, really.” 

You stand there, immovable. Of course you had to be in your pajamas (his shirt and boxers, really), no makeup, hair untouched. And yet, you can’t imagine anything more perfect. 

“You drive me crazy,” Joshua continues. “In every way possible. I can't imagine life without your laugh, or your thinking face, or how you always need to have an answer for everything.” 

He produces a small box. It’s different from the first one, the one he used all those months ago when nothing mattered. Inside it, a new ring, something far simpler and more beautiful.

Joshua says your name, wonderful and reverent in his mouth. “Darling princess of Cotria, I'm asking you to marry me. Again.” 

And you say yes, for the very first time.

[END]

[ywnzn]

hydrangea love | park wonbin smau (on hold)

☆ ex!park wonbin x fem!reader x jung sungchan

☆ synopsis. yn, model & owner of a well-known perfume brand, releases a new series inspired by a heartbreak she went through. completely unaware that the new rising model who was chosen to promote the series is the same person who caused the heartbreak itself, park wonbin.

☆ genre.  smau + mayb written chapters, exes to lovers!au, love triangle trope, fluff, angst ?, romance, slow burn kinda, bad humor, stupid mcs !

☆ notes. random pictures will be used to visualise concepts, outfits & photo style for mc. do not hesitate to leave an ask if you have any suggestions! this is a remake of a soobin smau i discontinued last year ^

☆ features. rest of riize, illit’s minju, kiof’s julie, txt's taehyun, bonedo's taesan, zb1's gyuvin, ive's rei & more

☆ taglist. closed send an ask/comment to be added. @eternalgyu @drinktaro @toniiswrld @lipsbyive @hwadejectedyoung @seunghancore @teddywook @jinanangel @wonbinsvlle @totheseok @starwonb1n @miyawakiblossoms @snoopyana @nishimuraii @nujeskz @miyawwn @saranghoeforanton @ahnneyong @lecheugo @snowyseungs @antonsgirlfriend @ilovejungwonandhaechan @haecnh @chxrlvspp @revehosh @junstulip @emohoon @kyusqult @pinxeajin @rksbae @wonychu @secretnocluesworld @daegale @moamidzyism @nyu-topia @kkumistars @syzavxy @blossominghunnie @tocupid @lostinneocity @rllymark @valyjws @meowbini @mindalz @hildafuracao @eternallyhyucks @secretiny @conwunder @binoyu @esther-kpopstan @injunnie-lemon @jaehyunzm @endtostartbreathin @fae-renjun @bunni @bebubilu @syzavxy @enhacolor @soobiverse @sngj08 @xcosmi

☆ profiles. powerpuff girls | RIIZE | lavies

☆ chapters.

01. [REDACTED]

02. girl idk

03. whatever u say

04. asking for a friend

05. is he not?

06. everyone knows

07. just a chemist written + smau

08. it's called x

09. damage control

10. joe king written + smau

11. ttoribini live

12. boyf material

13. double dates

14. petty? pretty.

15. picking fights

16. falls over & dies

17. overreacting

18. start over written + smau

19. dating game

20. me and who

21. lego blisters

22. no ew

23. sabotage

24.

ywnzn © 2024 ▸ this smau is merely based on fictional events and is not meant to represent any of the idols mentioned accurately in any way, either it's personality or shipping characters wise.

[dioslesbianwife]

Here are some jojo villain house headcannons for the TV shows/channels I think jojo villains would enjoy.

••••••••••••••••••••••

Dio

Luxury Living Network: Likes to revel in shows about wealth, power, and decadence. Think Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.

National Geographic: Enjoys watching predators hunt their prey. He’d identify with the top of the food chain.

The History Channel (Old School): Enjoys historical conquest stories, especially those about rulers like Julius Caesar or Genghis Khan.

Trashy reality shows on TLC would also be a guilty pleasure. He lives for the dramatic betrayals.

Kars

Animal Planet: Loves learning about the animal kingdom and biology, particularly predator-prey dynamics. He’d judge how far evolution has come since his era.

Discovery Channel: Loves documentaries about science, geology, and life on earth, though he’d scoff at any inaccuracies.

Sci-Fi channel: He’s secretly amused by humans' imagination of evolution and alien life.

Esidisi

Telenovelas/Soap opera Channels: Enjoys dramatic and over-the-top emotions—his own temper tantrums mirror them perfectly.

Wrestling Channels (WWE for example): Finds the combat entertaining and relates to the theatrical aggression.

Wamuu

Sports Channels (ESPN, Olympic Channel): Drawn to competition and strength. He’s especially invested in combat sports like MMA or wrestling.

Military History Channel: Respects the strategies and honor involved in ancient warfare.

Kira

HGTV: Finds peace in watching mundane home improvement or interior design shows, which align with his “quiet” lifestyle.

True Crime channels: Obsessed with watching shows like Forensic Files, hoping to pick up tips on how to avoid getting caught.

Fashion Network: Enjoys looking at high-end clothing.

Diavolo

Old school MTV: Likes the chaotic energy as it aligns with his paranoia.

Crime Networks: Loves anything that teaches him how to cover his tracks and outsmart enemies.

Vogue Network: Secretly enjoys high fashion shows for their eccentric designs (much like his clothing…choices).

Doppio

Cartoons: Despite being an adult, Doppio has a childlike innocence and would gravitate toward shows like The amazing Spiderman, enjoying the light-heartedness,. I think he’d mostly prefer old school shows like Batman the animated series or the old X-men show. Maybe Arthur, Powerpuff girls, Avengers, Clifford, etc.

Cooking Shows (Food Network): Doppio seems like he craves comfort, so watching cooking shows like those holiday baking ones or Master Chef could offer him a sense of warmth and happiness. I think he’d try to show the boss what he learned from them and try to cook simple things.

Pucci

Religious Channels: Watches sermons to draw inspiration. Though I do think he’d strongly dislike the kinds of televangelists that scam vulnerable people.

Discovery/Space Channels: Interested in space and time shows, considering his obsession with Heaven and universal perfection.

Classical Music Channel: Finds focus in orchestral music and opera broadcasts. Probably plays it in the background as he reads or annotates his Bible.

Funny Valentine

News Networks (C-SPAN, BBC): Watches political coverage and speeches to stay informed and critique the current state of governance and the world.

History Channel: Studies historical conflicts and leadership tactics.

Classic Movie Channels: Watches patriotic films or period dramas for inspiration and comfort.

[ya-bug-boy]

Can we get poly submas x DILF reader who has triplets from a previous marriage? Can you also make the triplets identical I just think that would be funny lol.

Poly Submas x Dilf Reader with Triplets

It's pretty obvious that people know who the twins are by this point. They're battle masters, train conductors, and are considered Unova's most sought after bachelors. You know them well actually, considering that they're your boyfriends.

You're a father of identical triplets, all girls. Every year you all dress up as Professor Utonium and the Powerpuff Girls. You always tell the girls that they can ask for a different themed costume but they insist on dressing up as Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup.

The girls are candy sweet, you love them so much! People often times have their own little nicknames for them. Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, or Eenie, Miney, Mo, sort of names.

The girls from oldest to youngest are named: Momoka, Hana, and Akari. The girls are adopted and you all immigrated over to the Unova region after you were able to secure a better job for a life for all four of you.

The girls are a handful at times but you're quite thankful to have the twins as your boyfriends. When you first immigrated, you were showing the girls on how to ride the subways safely. They all attended the same private school. The four of you would ride together in the morning and then the girls would walk over to where you worked at the Nimbasa Library. You'd all get lunch and when you went back to work, the girls would do their homework and play on the computers until it was time to go home.

There was a time though, the girls wanted to go hang out with some classmates. You were obviously very worried about them going on their own so you insisted that they take one of your Pokemons with you. But at some point, the girls got lost in the subway station, at three separate locations, and were crying for your help in the group chat.

You immediately went to look for them, asking for help. You found one of your girls but then when you found Hana and Akari, they were with one of the twins. Hana had found Emmet, and somehow charmed her way into getting him to buy her a lollipop. Akari was with Ingo, the two holding hands together as her other hand held a toy he had given her. You thanked the twins profusely for their assistance.

Since that day forward, the twins became almost an integral part of your life. Somehow the three of you have similar work schedules and train routes. In the morning, you'd see the twins on the same train to Nimbasa from Anville Town. The girls were happy to see the twins, but after learning that Hana got candy, the other two girls often ask when they'd get their share. It was here that you explained to the twins that the girls learned the concept of sharing. On the occasion you don't buy singular treats, you buy them a big candy bar and tell them to share it evenly.

On the train rides back home, the girls are often talking to the twins about their day. Talking about their school subjects and what not. At least until they found out that Ingo and Emmet are among Unova's best trainers and then they get excited and ask many questions, including wanting to see their pokemon.

When you all arrive at the same destination for home, the girls insist that the twins come over for dinner. The twins at first are apprehensive, but the girls insist and beg for you to let them join. Thankfully you have enough food in the fridge to prepare a large meal for them.

What started off as a coincidence, then intentions, easily became domestic. You at first tried to keep your romantic life with the twins a secret from the girls, at least until you gave them an explanation on gay people. When they saw Emmet and Ingo give you a kiss on the cheek, they all screamed in delight.

Birthdays and holidays became bigger with them in your lives. You wouldn't have it any other way.

[teacupballerina]

PPG headcanons/plotbunnies townie and villain edition (non-crossover)

Mr. Green and Ms. Keane live in the same apartment complex. They meet after Keane's breakup in "Keen on Keane" when Green notices that Keane seems upset at the mail center. They start talking and--what a coincidence they both love kids!! A few episodes later Ms. Keane catches a nasty illness from amoeba-tainted oranges after "Divide and Conquer" and the only person she trusts to watch over her beloved class in "Substitute Creature" is Mr. Green. A few years later they get married and have halflings who help the new generation in Townsville stomach monster integration.

Robin's parents divorce not long after Super Friends and she blames herself because they are verbally abusive. They have split custody so Robin is only the Utoniums' neighbor every other week. She has an emo phase in middle school and cuts her hair short. Inspiration: the couple her parents were based on divorced IRL and she knows she's "an accident".

Following from previous, in high school Bubbles and Robin become girlfriends, Bubbles is the one who confesses first.

Buttercup taught Ace how to play bass during some never-made episode where the girls teach them to play instruments as part of a rehabilitation effort after Aspirations. ("If you want to meet girls, why don't you guys start a band?") The gang goes on to form a ska band with Snake on guitar, Ace on bass, Billy on drums, Arturo on trumpet (which he already knew how to play somehow) and Grubber on mic. They eventually split when Ace gets the call from Gorillaz.

Sedusa is Ms. Keane's elder sister. This is the reason Ms. Keane is more sympathetic to monsters and mutants. She doesn't have a lot of time between grading homework to keep up with supervillain activity, so she doesn't know half of what Sedusa has done. At some point they meet again and catch up, Sedusa goes low profile after "Aspirations" and leans more into civilian life. The girls don't find out the relation until after leaving Pokey Oaks Kindergarten, at Ms. Keane's wedding to Mr. Green.

Bubbles stays in touch with Wuzzy after "Roughin' It Up" and learns more about the forest and the Lumpkins clan from him. She even dates Wuzzy for a while and has a farmgirl phase, buying vegan leather cowboy boots that she wears into adulthood. This all helps her connect with and befriend Fuzzy himself, who learns to be more accepting through her. LOOK HOW CUTE THO:

Mojo Jojo ages very slowly due to his Chemical X mutation. His specific fixation on Blossom culminates in his focus shifting to either converting or dating her rather than destroying her (something he comes to understand as impossible). Even he doesn't know what he wants and has a lot of anguish over how he feels about her. Blossom's willing to be friends if he stops busting the city up, but she's never telling him that.

The Rowdyruff boys grow into manchildren and start "The Ruffcast", a manosphere podcast/youtube where they do nothing but play videogames, pump iron and complain about the Powerpuff Girls being too smart, too fat, and not feminine enough. Mitch Mitchelson gets roped in as the camera guy and occasional participant, which makes Buttercup dump him.

Princess Morbucks goes from wanting to be a Powerpuff Girl to just wanting to be a team leader. She recruits/buys her own team of girls to suit up and boss around, and this becomes a high-turnover job position for desperate people. Every other time the girls meet Princess, her lackeys are different. Daddy eventually disowns her not for being a villain but for being a tabloid magnet in college, forcing her to start over with nothing. One last ditch effort leads her to public records, and searching for any extended family to appeal to, she discovers her birth mother is Sara Bellum [A lesbian who used to be Morbucks' secretary--she loves Mayor because he's a harmless decent man who helped her escape that situation by hiring her]. Bellum takes her in, reluctantly, but she is totally immune to manipulation and sets her straight.

Ms. Bellum eventually runs for Mayor of Townsville and wins. Mayor Mayor retires to Pokey Oaks senior center. The girls visit him often and occasionally consult him for info about Townsville's history if needed--it's much easier for him to remember things from a long time ago, he's not so good with the day-to-day stuff. Bubbles volunteers there with Bullet, who opens Mayor's pickle jars when the nurses can't.

Harry Pitt running gag: Getting referenced as being in juvie and then prison, but it's never stated what he did. We know what he's in for, but the other characters never say.

[suzieloveships]

Marauders era's girls x girl childhood

Lily - Strawberry Shortcake girl first, human second, collected greeting cards and watched the cartoon religiously. Loves Barbie, had few dolls and watched every movie with Petunia, her favorite ones are Magic of Pegasus and Princess Charm School. Watched Winx, her favorite was Bloom. Favorite Disney Princesses are Belle and Cinderella, Twilight is her favorite out of Mane6 from MLP. One of 10 people on the planet that read Star Darlings.

Marlene - Polly Pocket girl, had a dozen of those tiny boxes. Adores Monster High, got atleast 2 dolls for every birthday, seen every movie. Watched og He-man and She-ra with her brothers and was super hype once the reboot came out. Made James and Peter watch Barbie movies and W.I.T.C.H., they made her watch TMNT and Transformers. Her favorite Barbie movies are Mermaid Tale and Diamond Castle, favorite pony is Rainbow Dash and favorite Disney Princesses are Mulan and Merida

Mary - dances ballet since she was 10, watched Angelina Ballerina almost every day and read as many Angelina books as she could. Collected LPS since she was 6, has two shelfs in her room just for the figurines. Favorite Barbie movie is Nutcracker and Swan Lake, mostly because of the real ballet dances in those movies. Her favorite Disney Princesses are Tiana and Rapunzel and Rarity is her favorite pony. Elle Woods and Cher Horowitz are her heroes

Dorcas - she is Tiana and Tiana is she, she owns colour green, as a kid definitly tried to kiss a frog atleast once and she and Pandora dressed up as Tiana and Lottie for Halloween 2 years in a row. Adored My scene, had many dolls, watched all movies and cartoon episodes and played all of the flash games. Also watched Winx and listened to Winx's albums so often I started to drive her family insine. Was also obsessed with PowerPuff Girls. Watches Sofia the First and Elena of Avalor with her younger sister. Mariposa duology are her favorite Barbie movies, Applejack is her favorite pony

Pandora - W.I.T.C.H. girl, collected comics as they were coming out, still has a box with accessories that came with each issue, rewatched the whole show every year, probably forced Regulus watch with her. Watched all of Disney Fairies movies and read all of the books, forever mad that Rani was not in the movies. Fairytopia trilogy stan, had a Bibble plushie. Pinkie Pie is her favorite pony and Aurora and Ariel are her favorite Disney Princesses. Watches Enchanted atleast 3 time per year

Sybill - One of 5 people that remembers Bratzillaz, but never really got into a Bratz. She just really likes a cartoon where a main character is a seer. She also likes Barbie, Rapunzel is her favorite. Religiously watched Addams family cartoon and Laika's movie. Had all 3 MLP G3 movies on DVD and later got obsessed with Friendship is Magic, her favorite is Fluttershy. Her favorite Disney Princesses are Snow White and Aurora. Practical magic is her comfort movie

Emma - Bratz girl, bought many dolls, watched all of the movies, even the live action one and listen to every album. Was also obsessed with Totally spies and Kim Possible, wanted to be a spy until she was 10. Despite being Bratz girl she did seen few Barbie movies, 3 musketeers is probably her favorite. Will unironically say that Kuzco is her favorite Disney Princess, it's actually Jasmine. Also a big fan of Jem and the holograms. Can quote Mean Girls so well it's actually scary

Amelia - one of those Barbie scholars. Not only has she see all of the movies she also knows deep lore of the toy. Don't ask her which movie is her favorite, she cannot choose. Adores Legally Blonde, movie and the musical. Hello Kitty aesthetic. Favorite Disney Princess is Rapunzel. Read Princess Diaries serie and hates to movie for completly ruining the story

Emmeline - MLP stan, can sing every song on Rainbow Rocks soundtrack, her favorite is Twilight, og LyraBon shipper. Also loves Care Bears, definetly annoys everyone by yelling Care Bear Stare while throwing thing at people. Had a massive crush on David Bowie and watch Labyrinth over and over again. Favorite Disney Princess are Ariel and Mulan and favorite Barbie movie is Princess and the Pauper

Lucinda - Evar After High girl, watch the whole show, bought many dolls and had a diary with a key. Thought Somebody to Love was written for Ella Enchanted. Favorite Barbie movie is Thumbelina. Got really into Buffy as she grew older. Grew up with DreamWorks rather than Disney, but Jasmin is probably her favorite princess

Hestia - lived near sea and had a mermaid phase. Watched H2O and Aquamarine almost every day. Marmaid Tale duology stan. Favorite Disney Princess is obviously Ariel and favorite pony is Pinkie Pie. Had a small Sylvanian Families collection. Was also a big Sailor Moon fan. Adores studio ghiblie movies, especially Ponyo. Actually owned the 13th year on DVD, that's how big her obsession with mermaid was

[simplysedusa]

My Main WIPs

The Best Years of Our (Resurrected) Lives

After a hostage situation gone awry during a field trip, many of the Townsville citizens agreed to have the beloved Powerpuff Girls taken out of public school to ensure the safety of their peers. From the ages of 9 to 15, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup Utonium were homeschooled by Professor Utonium. With many of Townsville's most notorious villains locked away indefinitely, crime in Townsville has managed to calm down (mostly). This leaves the girls' main concern to be one of their toughest arch enemies ever, The Rowdyruff Boys, who the girls haven't had a run in with since they were seven years old.

Unbeknownst to the girls, the Rowdyruff Boys had their own troubles. With Mojo being a permanent resident at Pokey Oaks Penitentiary, and HIM disowning the trio, the boys were truly on their own. Desperate, starving, and weak, Brick, Butch, and Boomer managed to literally fall onto someone else's doorsteps. Years after living in a group home and completing their house arrest, their caregiver, Marie, pushes the boys to integrate into society by enrolling them at Townsville Central High.

A year later, Principal Green invites the girls to TCH in an attempt to pacify the concerns of students, staff, and loved ones who still feel unsafe around the boys. Forced to face one another, the six super-powered beings make amends, all while dealing with regular, human high-school issues, former and new enemies out for their blood (in both a figurative and literal sense), and uncovering the corrupted underbelly of Townsville's politics and how it all connects to some of the major villains to have ever roamed the streets.

Main Ships: Lowkey still don't know tbh but I'm thinking either Bluegrass (Bubbles x Butch), Cotton Candy (Blossom x Boomer), and Christmas Ornaments (Buttercup x Brick) OR Blues, Reds, and Greens (or I might just post two very different versions of the same story lol).

Also, the boys might get two moms and Princess Morbucks redemption!

All Grown Up (Kinda)

The City of Townsville has had its ups and downs, but without the superhero sister triplets, The Powerpuff Girls, the city would be left in ruins. Thanks to the construction of Townsville's newest, tightest, and strictest prison, TBA, many of the severe, repeat offending villains can be forever detained, leaving the other reformed villains to live amongst the innocent. Mini Dynamo robots invented by Professor Utonium take on the tougher, more difficult jobs for the cops. So where does that leave the girls? Retired. Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup's main concerns now are their own personal problems. Blossom's in grad school, still somewhat unsure of what she wants to do after and struggling with her serious, long distance relationship. Buttercup, a former Olympian, had recently been barred from competing after her cheating scandal, which also resulted in the loss of her brand deals, forcing her to move back home and take a teaching job at their younger sister's middle school. Bubbles, while the most secure in her personal identity outside of her sisters, overworks herself with her activism and charity and her entertainment gigs, with barely any time to herself. Or to spend with her sisters, only God would know how long it's been since the three have been in the same room for longer than five minutes (without arguing).

The Rowdyruff Boys, on the other hand, are doing quite well for themselves. Boomer, a rather populated ghost writer and producer, stars his own subsidiary music label. Butch opens his own gym, while still DJing at the club they all own. Brick owns an apartment complex that doubles as a restaurant on the first two floors, where tenants can work to pay in labor if needed, and also recently opened a theater. Their days of attacking the Powerpuff Girls are over, thanks to the deal they've made with HIM. Every night, once a year, the Rowdyruff Boys must complete a favor in exchange for their freedom and they must not speak of their deal to anyone. So long as they don't get caught, they're in the clear.

Fate, however, decides to have the six reunite. And while the interactions were much calmer and more civil than anticipated, the timing couldn't have been worse. Former, now rehabilitated villains have been found murdered, with messages left behind for both the boys and girls. Now, the six will have to work together to find the culprit, all while learning how to "adult".

Main Ships: Blues, Reds, and Greens

Professor Utonium is also married and has a biological daughter and step-son.

Also, the Rowdyruff Boys might get two moms.

Mean Boys

Elmer Sgloo had never attended a real school after his monstrous rampage through Townsville. But at the ripe age of 17, his parents felt that now was the best time for Elmer to reintegrate with his peers at Townsville Central High. While the Powerpuff Girls are more than happy to show him around on the first day, he catches the attention of the most infamous, dangerous, and out right belligerent triplets to ever live in Townsville; the Rowdyruff Boys. No one has ever had the opportunity to infiltrate their small circle, but after accepting their rather casual lunch invitation, he becomes the Powerpuff's newest pawn to spy on the boys, and investigate their newest weapon, a "Burn Book" crafted from the depths of hell.

Main Ships: Still unsure, I'm almost certain it'll be Reds, Blues, and Greens with Elmer x Julie Bean (she's the Aaron Samuels equivalent), but I think Elmer x Brick would be a cool plot twist (or I'm considering making it one-sided on Brick's end). Idk, it's my newest idea, I'm still working out the details.

Wrapped In A Bow (title pending lmao)

Blossom Utonium's...friendship with Princess Morbucks had never made sense to anyone, not even her sisters. Their intense, competitive nature had led everyone to believe that they hated each other's guts. But ever since high school, the two were peas in a pod. Blossom supported Princess's interest in robotics and was the perfect study buddy, while Princess was the devil on Blossom's shoulder, encouraging her to let loose and have fun.

And once Princess learns that Blossom got into her dream school for grad, she's right at her side in her flying Gucci modded heels, begging for one night out on the town. Clubbing, partying, and drinking were more of her sisters' forte, but Blossom eventually agrees to one night for the hell of it.

What she hadn't expected was a run-in with Brick Keane, another former arch-nemesis of hers, who tags along with the girls.

She wakes up the next morning with articles and videos trending of the three redheads having the time of their lives, and the guilty parties laid next to her naked on her left and right. Possibly dating one former villain was scandalous enough, but two former villains could be quite a handful. Blossom's mostly pristine reputation is now in danger, and if there's anything Blossom cared about, it's about how she's perceived. Could she make this work?

Main Ships: R3ds (Blossom x Princess x Brick), maybe Greens and Blues, but I'm also considering other ships to explore outside of them.

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

Bunch of New OCs

Descendants

Calen (x Ben) & Morrigan (x Jane) in Control – the children of Chernabog, very powerful magic users who grew up on the isle. Not a part of any crew, preferred to just stick together, but Calen has a history with both Harry and Jay, and Morrigan has a history with Evie. TBD if they're invited to Auradon or if they just invite themselves, here to cause chaos

Chernabog takes a technically female presenting body when trapped by the isle magic and is Aubrey Plaza probably but also maybe Kathryn Hahn idk?

Glee

Lucinda (Patti Lupone) & Vanessa (Kathryn Hahn) Hope in The Art Of Making Art – Danny's mothers, details in Danny's intro

(ft. introduced Nadia & Pip, Danny's therapist and boyfriend respectively)

Heartstopper

Isabella Belly Spring in Personal Best – Charlie's twin sister, probably has BPD because i can't write any mentally stable ocs rn, autistic queen, bit of a loner at Higgs but she and Elle have always been close so when she transfers, baby girl gets pulled into the friend squad with Darcy & Tara, Ben's ex girlfriend (while he was also with Charlie, dumped him when she found out about that) and current president of the Ben Hate Squad

Juniper Catalina Solano in A Place In This World – Nick’s best friend, moved away when they were 13 (basically just before his kiss with Tara and before he became friends with Imogen), they stayed in touch and are still very very close

Details iffy but her parents die early in season 1 and it was in their will that if anything happened to them, they wanted their daughter to live with Sarah Nelson (they got along well and trusted her, she wasn’t their very best friend but they knew it was the best choice for their daughter), so she’s just moved back

Marvel (Agatha All Along)

Naomi Kaplan in Darkest Hour, Wake Thy Power – William Kaplan's twin sister, not a Maximoff but born with magic (tbd what kind of witch she is but loves crystals and tarot readings even before knowing she's a witch), can immediately tell that something is Not Right with her brother after the accident (maybe also died/almost died in the accident and that's when her magic kicks in? tbd), the only one who knows the full truth of who he is, invites herself along when Billy goes to find Agatha

Renna Vidal / Renna Vidal-Harkness in Earthly And Divine – Rio & Agatha's magically created witch daughter, Nicky's older sister. Withdrew from both of her parents after Nicky died and might never have reconnected with them if she hadn't somehow gotten herself swept up in Billy Kaplan's plan to walk the Witches' Road

Elizabeth Zella Maximoff in Maiden, Mother, Crone – Billy & Tommy's triplet, ends up in a slightly older body after the Hex breaks down, finds Billy completely by chance and now will not rest until they get Tommy back too

bonus: Kassandra's AAA title is Glory At The End & Cheryl's is Sewn With Fate

RWRB

Christian Douglas Charles William Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor in History Has Its Eyes On You – Youngest prince, 18/19 when everything starts, gay and closeted, adores Henry more than anything in the world

dating Emilia Harper Claremont-Diaz, who knows that he's gay and is okay with being his public beard and forever best friend, but Mary is starting to put more and more pressure on him to propose

Emilia Harper Claremont Diaz in History Has Its Eyes On You– baby of the Claremont-Diaz family, she is in her first or second year at GWU in RWRB. Was a total daddy's girl growing up and never outgrew the pain of Oscar leaving. Majoring in International Relations because she feels like she has to and minoring in art history because she loves it, undiagnosed ADHD like her brother. Often referred to as the People's Princess in the US and as the American Princess internationally, loves Texas with all her heart, Secret Service codename is Buttercup which she chose because of her favourite Powerpuff Girl

Fashion icon (not as much as June though), idolizes her big sister forever, social media star, loves art and art history and museums and creating art, often feels like she might not be smart enough to make her family proud, happily fake dating her best friend Christian Fox

named after Harper Lee and Emilia Casanova de Villaverde, probably goes by her middle name (except with Oscar's family) but tbd

Titans

Morvan Abbott (x Jason Todd) in Abyss – Rowena Abbott's younger, lowkey the reason she was in jail (specifically, she killed their step father while protecting Morvan from him). After Rowena's arrest he ran away, found himself taken in by a woman with powers somewhat similar to his own and a vested interest in not letting Trigon destroy the world. After Rowena ends up with Dick and Rachel, they encounter this woman on their search for answers, and Rowena finally sees her baby brother again

ty everyone @the-witching-ash @ocmerunaway @ginevrastilinski-ocs @cecexwrites @manyfandomocs for listening to me not shut up about these ideas for sooooooo long i appreciate y'all also the ouat squad is still coming but i might die before i figure that shit out so also maybe not idk they're turning in my brain like a rotisserie chicken

edit: also still need to do the teen wolf coven but that's a future problem

[breaking-noose]

Moko Jono's name is a reference to Yoko Ono.

She was Mojo Jojo's first love interest before the reboot in 2016 who will be Barbarus Bikini.

Moko Jono (real name: Michelle) is a female monkey from the zoo. She only makes one appearance and isn't counted as a villain in the opening because she is originally not one. She was once a love interest of Mojo Jojo, but she and the Powerpuff girls are tricking him.

When she is not in performance criminal mode, she looks like a regular chimp, is naked and has pink feet a pink face, pink ears, pink hands and black eyes with eyelashes. She belongs to a woman named Judy (reference to "Hey Jude" by the Beatles), who is the zookeeper at the zoo Moko lived in. She was used to distract Mojo by making him fall in love with her.

The Beatles appear twice in their different animated forms in 'The Powerpuff Girls'. Both their designs by Dennis Marks (from the 1960s cartoon series) and George Dunning's designs (from the Yellow Submarine film) are seen during this episode. Their second appearance is in the scene where Mojo Jojo and Moko Yono scream to annoy people. When Mojo shouts the words 'Their pain is our pleasure' the last people shown, unable to bear the screams, are Ringo Starr, John Lennon, George Harrison, and Paul McCartney. Mojo's first love, Moko Yono, is a reference to John Lennon's wife, Yoko Ono. The screaming scene is a reference to the real-life breakup of The Beatles x

[restwellsoon]

get to know your moots

Thanks for the tag, bbygrl @andypantsx3 ♡

what's the origin of your blog title?

It's a play on get well soon.

OTP(s) + shipname

I'm not partial to any ship.

favorite color

Red.

favorite game

It's a tie between the .hack// series (especially Mutation and Outbreak) for the PS2 and the PokeMon games (Crystal, Ruby, and Ultra Sun in particular). I wanna play Love and Deep Space but I have no self control when it comes to otomes.

song stuck in your head

The Eve - EXO.

weirdest habit/trait?

Chewing/picking at my lips when I'm stressed.

hobbies:

Writing, weightlifting, crafting, cooking.

if you work, what's your profession?

Registered nurse.

if you could have any job you wish what would it be?

Princess ♡

something you're good at:

Assembling furniture.

something you're bad at:

Driving, haha.

something you love:

That feeling when you just shaved your legs and slide into a freshly made bed. That's heaven on earth right there.

something you could talk about for hours off the cuff:

The cultural impact of The Blair Witch Project.

something you hate:

Obligatory current state of America. Also having tinnitus.

something you collect:

Minerals. I've gotten more mindful with the specimens I collect though.

something you forget:

The list continues to grow as I get older... There are certain codes I use frequently for work that I constantly forget, write down, and then forget that I wrote them down.

what's your love language?

Acts of service ♡

favorite movie/show:

Edward Scissorhands / You're the Worst.

favorite food:

Lamb or soup.

favorite animal:

Skunks!

what were you like as a child?

Shy.

favorite subject at school?

German or psych.

least favorite subject?

Stats or chem.

what's your best character trait?

I'm pretty good at making people feel comfortable around me irl.

what's your worst character trait?

Most things and people don't bother me, but when they do, it's the end of the world to me.

if you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be?

All the laundry would be done and folded ugh.

if you could travel in time who would you like to meet?

Cleopatra VII.

recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love!):

Lie in Lime by zero_paradise - PowerPuff Girls | Buttercup x Butch

Okay, this is so random but I remember I used to ship them SO HARD when I was younger, and one boring night, curiosity got the best of me... The fic hasn't been updated in years, but it's been living in my mind rent free since I first read it. I love the author's interpretation of the characters, and they add very specific real world details that are so fitting for Butch and Buttercup. The tension written is insaaaane.

&

Beneath the Silk by phyx_morgan - Ju Jutsu Kaisen | True Form!Sukuna x F!Reader.

I haven't read anything this engaging, both fanfic or otherwise, in a while. With an assassination plot under the guise of an arranged marriage, the author writes a dynamic story that has you fully invested in each character and detail, and each chapter makes you question everyone's motives and desires. There's so much mystery that's been skillfully written here, and I've found myself rereading it obsessively on AO3.

No pressure tags (I just wanna get to know ya): @pricetagofficial @boosyboo9206 @ghost-flakes @illeatyoursoulwithmustard @katsudonkitten @angelz-dust

[coulsons-fullmetal-cellist]

The Producer

(Dieter x horror loving female)

Words: 2, 137

Summary: it’s my birthday and wanted to do something fun, alsothis was my excuse to create my dream cast for a live-action Powerpuff Girls film!

Warnings: random celebrity cameos, lots of adorableness, Dieter being Dieter so some saucy suggestions

Check out masterlist here

“Dieter, who is that?”

“No one.”

Clara immediately popped up waving, “Hi mummy!”

You scooted over and kissed her on the cheek but kept that scolding glare on your husband.

“How many times have I told you not to bring her on set?”

“She wanted to see you.”

“Jojo!” she exclaimed.

“Did someone bring me a baby to cuddle?” Jack Black was already under a layer of makeup to portray said character, minus the big brain. Dieter plopped the eager toddler onto his lap which immediately started to jiggle.

“Pudding!”

“I’m 50% pudding!” Her laughter made it hard for you to be mad.  Eventually you took her from the soft clutches of the actor.

“Say bye to Jojo.”

“Bye Jojo!”

You handed her off to Dieter. “Put her back in daycare before we start getting complaints,” you gave her another kiss on the cheek but kept up the stern face.

“Okay,” Dieter sighed and begrudgingly took Clara back to the on-set daycare.

It was a wonderful idea, an on-set daycare. Wonder why it wasn’t thought of before. It was thought up by the writer who had a child of their own and didn’t want to leave them with nannies. This brought several great people on to the project as they now no longer had to worry over who would look after their little ones of various ages. The director herself had a toddler and was overjoyed to have her close by and would bring her little Bianca on set. You were signed on as head of special effects makeup but mainly your job was bringing Mojo Jojo to life. Dieter was playing Professor Utonium and Clara had finally accepted the fact that her father was still the same person even though he had shaved his beard. Occasionally she would still glare at him with suspicion.

The whole cast and crew were very friendly, and everyone got on well. You had yet to meet the writers or producers, but they didn’t have to be on set as much as everyone else.

You read through Dieter’s script and absolutely loved how the film started as the Powerpuff girls were growing up and going to high school in Citysville while Professor Utonium had a mid-life crisis which gave Mojo Jojo the opportunity to lure his old creator into being a villain. But underneath the fun, cartoon-like joy was the fear of girls being made to grow up too quickly and losing childhood. You shed tears over Blossoms speech critiquing those who stole the chance for girls to be safe and not letting them stay children.

Right now, you were looking at the psychedelic set which was having its backdrop changed.

“Oh wow, it’s like Colour Out of Space!”

“It is,” you turned to the man next to you, “Wait, you’ve seen that film?”

*****

Dieter saw you in deep conversation as he left the set for the day and made his way over to the on-set daycare. Dieter loved the daycare as he loved being able to see his daughter almost anytime and give her a cuddle.

Clara had made several friends already as they had similar interests, mostly bugs. Bianca, the director’s daughter, had curly brown hair and brown eyes which immediately made them twins.

Dieter went over to the two girls, “Hello there Clara,” he said to Bianca.

The girls both giggled. “I’m not Clara,” said Bianca.

“You’re not?” he turned to Clara, “Hi Bianca.”

Again they both giggled. “I’m Bianca!” exclaimed her namesake.

“Daddy silly!” said Clara.

“Oh, I’m sorry Bianca,” Dieter said to his daughter who burst into even more giggles. He picked up the right little girl and gave Clara a big kiss on the cheek. Both of them waved bye to Bianca and Dieter gave an interested glance at her father who just walked in as Dieter walked out.

“Hello cupcake!” he carried her out to the car where you were waiting for them.

“You were being chatty with the producer,” Dieter said as he got in the car.

“Oh that was the producer? We were talking about Colour Out of Space. I don’t know anyone who’s watched it and I was so excited to talk about it with someone!”

Dieter mumbled something incoherent but shrugged it off.

“There’s something familiar about him but I can’t quite put my finger on what it is. He is somewhat adorable like you.”

“Adorable?”

“Not as adorable as you. No one is as adorable as you. Except Clara.”

“She can out-adorable anyone.”

*****

Dieter had snuck Clara onto set the next day. He was going to introduce her to his on-screen daughters.

“This is my baby girl, Clara. Cupcake, these are the Powerpuff Girls.”

Clara looked at the three actresses and pointed accordingly, “Bubbles, Blossom, Buttercup?”

Emma Myers, Halle Bailey and Shioli Kutsuna reacted the way one would when meeting the small, adorable offspring of Dieter Bravo, they cooed and fawned over her.

You hadn’t noticed all this as you were having another nerdy discussion with the producer.

“I’m sorry, I never really got your answer before but, what is your favourite film?”

“The question really should be what is my favourite film at the moment?”

He had a look that seemed similar to when your husband had discovered you put Kit Kats in something. “Wow, no one has ever asked me that before.”

“I always thought just narrowing it down to just a handful makes it really hard to decide.”

“Exactly!”

Dieter however, noticed this as he snuck Clara back to the on-set daycare.

“I saw you being very chummy with the producer today,” he asked you later at home.

“Oh we were having this discussion over The Wicker Man and wait, Dieter are you jealous?”

“No,” he mumbled.

You put your book down and looked at your husband. “Dieter, you have nothing to worry about. I’m ridiculously in love with you and nothing will change that. If Mike Flanagan showed up with a cheeseboard, I’d say thank you, but no.”

“But you’d take the cheeseboard?”

“Oh, absolutely!”

*****

The on-set daycare was filled with children eager for their parents to take them home. Clara made another friend called Ari. Her curls were golden honey so sadly she wasn’t a twin but her and Clara were best friends as they both loved spiders.

Clara saw her father enter the room and ran up to greet him. Upon getting closer, she realised this was not her father.

“Daddy?”

The man kneeled down, “I’m sorry bonita, I’m not your father.”

Ari came up beside her friend, “Papa!” She was welcomed with open arms by the man who looked like her father. Suspicions were already forming in her two-year-old brain.

You were picking up Clara today as Dieter was still rehearsing some last-minute choreography for the big crazy musical number where Professor Utonium has his mid-life crisis while also being seduced by all the Townsville villains including Him who was being portrayed by Yanis Marshall (aka, the dancing Deadpool in the Ashes music video, the voice provided later by Crispin Freeman and Kari Wahlgren) You walked into the room and found Clara in her one-sided glaring competition with the producer. She managed to break her glaring when you picked her up. She pointed at the man, “Not daddy?”

“That’s right, it’s not daddy. He looks nothing like him.”

But Clara went back to her evil glaring. The man who looked like her father but was not her father could only result in one conclusion.

“Evil daddy.”

“Why do you think he’s evil? He’s a very nice man.”

This man must be her father’s evil clone, it was the only thing that made sense. But it was hard for a toddler to explain this to her mother and the thought of explaining this made her feel tired and confused so she ended up just burying her face in your neck.

“I’m sorry,” you said to him. “Usually her dad picks her up, so she thinks you’re her dad. But he had to shave his beard and she must be missing it and saw yours so...” you shrugged.

“Oh no, that’s fine,” he turned to the girl in his arms. “Is this your friend?”

She nodded, “Spider.”

You both looked confused until you properly introduced your daughter.

“This is Clara.”

“Oh, nice to meet you Clara,” but she was too busy being tired and confused over the thought of her father having an evil clone to acknowledge this man.

Thankfully Clara had recovered when she was in the arms of her father, although he was confused when she was calling him real daddy.

“She’s missing the beard, as am I.”

He kissed both of you on the cheek, “I’m missing it too.”

Clara was overjoyed to see her actually father and not some evil clone.

“Not evil!” she exclaimed as she wrapped her tiny arms around his neck.

“Not evil?” he gave you a confused look, but you replied with an I’ll-explain-later look.

*****

The next day, you were immersed in your new book while on a tea break.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude your reading, but I couldn’t help but admire your book.”

Lifting your head, you came face to face with kind brown eyes, it was the producer who had become your new friend. There was a sort of familiarity to his eyes. You lifted up the book to show the full cover: Golem, Caligari, Nosferatu; A Chronicle of German Film Fantasy.

“My husband got it for me because he knew I’d love it. And I do.”

“So you’ve seen The Cabinet of Doctor Caligari?” he asked.

“Oh yes. Old films just have a certain quality to them modern films can’t replicate.”

“I completely agree. Is it one of your favourite films at the moment?”

“It is but I really like Nosferatu, mainly because it’s an early depiction of vampires. Oh, do you know the film Shadow of the Vampire?”

“Of course, a masterpiece to honour its original film,” you nodded in agreement. “Nicolas Cage produced that film.”

“He did?”

“Yes, he grew up with all those silent films.”

“How did I not notice?”

*****

It was the end of the working week and you and Dieter did not have to get up early the next day, so you indulged in tonight. Dieter was putting his heart and soul into every kiss. He’d been looking forward to this and slowly kissed down your neck. You were running your fingers through his hair, but suddenly, as your mind cleared, a forgotten thought entered your mind. You knew it would occupy until you found out, so you gently pushed your husband off you. Rolling off you in confusion, he watched as you left the bedroom. He quietly padded his way through the house, where he found you looking through your DVD collection.

“Honey cakes, what are you doing?”

“I just remembered something that I need to look up. My brain won’t shut up until I do.”

He sighed sympathetically, “I’ll turn the TV on.”

You followed him with your Shadow of the Vampire DVD. You pressed play and stared intently as the opening credits played. You paused when you found what you were looking for.

“There!”

Dieter squinted at the screen, “Nic Cage produced this?”

“Yeah I only just found out. I don’t know why I didn’t notice this before.”

“No one really pays attention to opening credits.”

“That’s true. Until they point out that there were clues hidden like in Malignant.”

He kissed your forehead, “That’s what trivia pages are for. Is your head feeling good?” You nodded. “Would you like me to give you some now?”

“I’m sorry I interrupted us before.”

“No need to apologise. We’ll just back to what we started,” he started nuzzling your neck.

“I just need to…”

“You put away the DVD and I’ll turn the TV off.”

*****

It was the start of a new week, and everyone was back to work, and the children were happy to be back with their friends again.

Once again, Dieter found you deep in conversation with the film’s producer. He wasn’t jealous. Why would he be? He had occasional immersive conversations with his wife but not lately. You were both working on the same film so you’ve both been so busy with that and dealing with a toddler. The two of you were still intimate but Dieter still felt like something was missing when he saw you talking with such animation in your whole expression. It’s not like he wanted to punch the man in the face, but he liked thinking about it.

You were once again deep in conversation when you saw Dieter approaching the two of you.

“Oh, hey Dieter. Have you met the producer?”

He held out his hand, Dieter reluctantly took it.

“Hi, I’m Javi Gutierrez.”

~

Yes, that’s right! Javi is now part of the Love of Horror Universe! To find out what he’s been doing, check out @cevans-is-classic because they have this story!

Lovingly tagging @boliv-jenta @simpingcowboy @ellenmunn @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @chaithetics @myloveistoolittle @glshmbl @cupcakehp @gswizzsstuff @nicolethered @blueeyesatnight @wannab-urs @meveispunk @morallyinept @djarinsimp

[renisrandom]

Can you name some Animes or Make a List of Animes You Watched?

If It'll Help I Can Name Some Animes, I Watched:

Dragon Ball Z

Dragon Ball GT

Ranma 1/2 (2024 Remake)

Fairy Tail: 100 Year Quest

PaRappa the Rapper (yes, there is Anime like that, Look It Up)

Strike the Blood

Akame Ga Kill!

Infinite Stratos

InuYasha

Love Tyrant

To Love Ru

Date A Live

My Hero Academia

Cross Ange: Rondo of Angels & Dragons

The Seven Deadly Sins

Blood Lad

Yu Yu Hakusho

One Piece

Rin-ne

Demon Slayer

Maison Ikkoku

Urusei Yatsura (2024 Remake)

High School DxD

The Rising of the Shield Hero

Assassination Classroom

Attack on Titan

Gunsmith Cats

Riding Bean

Super HxEros

Shinobi no Ittoki

Boruto

Black Clover

Code Geass

Bleach

Yu-Gi-Oh!

Hunter x Hunter (2011 Remake)

Food Wars!

Noragami

Rurouni Kenshin (2024 Remake)

Dr. Stone

Reborn!

Re:Zero - Starting Life in Another World

KonoSuba: God's Blessing on This Wonderful World!

Log Horizon

Sword Art Online

That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime

No Game No Life

Cautious Hero: The Hero is Overpowered but Overly Cautious

Tokyo Revengers

Fushigi Yuugi

Kill la Kill!

Gurren Lagann

Cyberpunk: Edgerunners

Fire Force

Neo Yokio

Jujutsu Kaisen

Sailor Moon Crystal

Blue Exorcist

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood

Persona 5: The Animation

Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon?

Tokyo Ghoul

Seraph of the End

Darling in the Franxx

Danganronpa: The Animation

Mob Psycho 100

High-Rise Invasion

Triage X

SK8 the Infinity

Soul Eater

Powerpuff Girls Z

Cardcaptor Sakura

Little Witch Academia

RWBY (It was Bought by VizMedia so technically it is an Anime)

Dragon Ball GT: A Hero's Legacy

Eden's Zero

Yuki Yuna is a Hero

Yashahime: Princess Half-Demon

Scott Pilgrim Takes Off!

Spy X Family

Oshi no Ko

The Seven Deadly Sins: Four Knights of the Apocalypse

Bleach: Thousand-Year Blood War

Rurouni Kenshin: Reflections

Shy

Lycoris Recoil

Fate (series)

The Apothecary Diaries

Tomo-chan Is a Girl!

Akiba Maid War

Twin Star Exorcists

Ninja Kamui

Solo Leveling

Mashle: Magic & Muscles

Blue Lock

Kuroko's Basketball

Love After World Domination

Go Go Loser Rangers

Zom 100: Bucket List of the Dead

Undead Unluck

Delicious in Dungeon

Frieren: Beyond Journey's End

My Dress-Up Darling

Classroom of the Elite

Garouden: The Way of the Lone Wolf

Mission: Yozakura Family

Chained Soldier

Joran: The Princess of Snow and Blood

Nanbaka

Fena: Pirate Princess

Chainsaw Man

Kaiju No. 8

Suicide Squad Isekai

Hajime no Ippo

BAKI (2018 Remake)

Kengan Ashura

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

Wanna Be the Strongest in the World!

The God of High School

Oh my! That's quite a long list! Let me see...

Spy X Family

Demon Slayer

Oshi No Ko

Yuki Yuna is a Hero

Madoka Magica

The 100 Girlfriends Who Really Really Really Really REALLY Love You

Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood

Interviews With Monster Girls

Komi Can't Communicate

Romantic Killer

Kotaro Lives Alone

Delicious in Dungeon

Avatar the Last Airbender

Mob Psycho 100

Attack on Titan

Made in Abyss

School-Live (Gakko Gurashi)

Dr. Stone